A Cloudy Morning

The clouds,
Elegantly do they stride
In their heavenly chambers
In the sky.

Tis' unjust,
That I should be chained here
Forced to bear witness to such majesty.

If my own thoughts and wishes were met,
I would glide out of this world
On a silky nimbus
To escape this silly, flitty society.

by Kevin Maroney

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