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CLOUDS

The clouds up there you see, are my companion
They travel with me wherever I go.
What is so special about them? You might wonder.
I would say, they are beautiful in their vulnerability.
They know they are beautiful without anyone vouching by them.
They accept that people love the sky and ignore their fleeting existence,
But they are special, special in their ordinariness.
They might drown you deep but they clear their way to fetch you sunshine
At times, I see them in pain grumbling with anger.
I shudder in fear unable to face them,
Yet, they gently cross over my window,
Aware of how I feel and how difficult they have been to me.
And I wake up to their cottony smile,
And wonder, where do their tears dry?
How difficult it must be to be a cloud!
They can only be a happy soul whose tears remain unshed
A legacy which weighs them down.
The day all hell breaks loose on them,
They no more remain who they are, they become thunder and lighting and ease out in rain drops
Which mixes in your skin and stays.
And that makes them dangerously beautiful!

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