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Cynthia Jean Feb 2020
Those bleak , black  clouds

are full

of  

crystal

rain.

Cynthia  Jean
Copyright
February,  2020
Jieun Feb 2020
I want to love me too..
but its just too hard
doing it alone :<
Ayn Feb 2020
The sky runs a dim orange,
reflecting the distant sun's dying light,
telling me that the day's final act
is on its final leg.

(the other was broken
after a saying
was taken literally)

A purple draws in,
as does the red velvet curtains.
The theater has emptied
except for those
who had tickets
to the night show as well.
The sky was orang, then purp, now it dim blu. Clouds make things weird. Also, "cloudful" and "airscape" are two not-words that I decided now exist for the sole purpose of my horrible titles.
Sabila Siddiqui Feb 2020
Your thoughts are far from the ground,
Like cumulonimbus clouds thundering by
And pouring rain. 


Life seems to pass by, scattered and wispy 

with the sound of the wind like a whistling train playing
as you stare at the elusive silver lining.

The pit patter of Peter Pan being lost
dwells heavy in your heart,
As you revise the sequence of the cumulus memories.

Life paces
As you ignore the malice and bantering of the crowds
Sticking your head above up into the clouds
half-deaf to reality in the room.

You have a foot in a fairy tale,
And one in the abyss.
— SabilaSiddiqui ©
pistachio Feb 2020
I once wondered why the clouds
Chose to hold out and not weep
Chose to be a martyr and enshroud
The earth till the little buds leap

As I ponder, the cold wind blows
and like a reminder, I remembered
I must get my umbrella and trench coat
Before I hopped onto that riverboat
And like an idiot, I realize
Why the clouds chose to keep his cries.

Again, I looked out the window
and asked the thoughtful clouds to promise me
That when his burdens reached its crescendo
I'll be fine and he must not hesitate to let go.
Liz Jan 2020
Who said the sky was blue
When it's made of other colors too?
They must have been colorblind
Because they couldn't see what hides behind

The clouds
1/1/19
Ayn Jan 2020
Draped in a cloudy cloak,
The light is filtered
Onto this marsh once more.

But a crack near the horizon
Lets some straggling beams fall,
And reflect off the salty water.
Now all the marshen rivers
Are made of liquid gold.
Sorry if it’s bad, it’s my best attempt as of late.
Bhill Jan 2020
My eyes were opened
Many clouds
Sunshine will follow

Brian Hill - 2020 # 23
Just wait for it if it’s not there!
Lejla Hott Jan 2020
sun-kissed white clouds blossom in the blue, free to fly with the wind. in the long horizon they take on silver hues, those deeper graphite tones that promises good rain. the cloudy day is my joy, for those passing white blossoms of the sky bring the transitory shade i love. upon the sidewalk i am as a happy butterfly beneath a tree canopy. passing from bright sun to mellow hues.
appreciate the clouds
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