They move so gracefully like they don’t even care;
Those clouds that wander freely in the air,
Sometimes they bring heavy rain;
Other times they bring soft snow;
And sometimes they let the fiery sun just show.
Enough times I have looked into the sky to know,
That the clouds are free-form; and their true form they do not show,
Their true forms are hidden; like a man in a mask,
And a cloud is born knowing,
That their true form is forbidden, no matter how much people ask.
Enough times I have looked into the sky to know,
That a cloud is like a bird, free to fly, free to roam.
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