We're two lost clouds drifting off,
not knowing their destination;
will someone give us
a sense of direction?
For quite some time,
in chimerical rhyme,
we ride these familiar skies,
sending rain and storms
down to earth's surface
with such a spiteful mood...
until we feel full!
We dislike the presence
of cheerfulness and brightness,
and infuriate the clover
and daffodils fields,
or even the ingenious parrots
that transform their notes
into cantabile and joyful lyrics;
we burlesquily watch the hungry butterflies
hardly descending on any flower
to pick, with labor, their delightful pollen!
We're two lost clouds drifting off,
carefree and unaware of what occurs
below us...as if we're not a part
of this wonderful creation in which all exalt;
only superficial and nonexistent,
nonemotional and so obstinate!
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