when I look at the sky
jaded by grey clouds
The hazards my mind brings
peeling apart joy and hope like persistent stickers on glass
and I catch myself
looking up up up
trying to grab the clouds like
the cotton wool of my dreams
grasping and yelling but ultimately
Holding nothing
and opening my hand to find it was
just
an
Illusion
a trick pulled by dark conjurer
stuff of nightmares, some long
forgotten
luminal space in my soul
and as I take pencil to paper
try and express the touch of clouds
but can’t explain how I even
configure this mayhem
this one-sided sorrow of mine
giving in to this bending sky
a lack of glory
i do admit
i always was cynical
if luck was under my spell
and well, it’s not
nothing is