June 3, 2010

Day 150 - Cloud 9 - 1 = ?

This flying cloud was once known as cloud nine
It was perfect white and made of fluff so fine
That was back when it was whole and complete
When soaring from coast to coast was no feat
But rather all in a day's work and play
When clouds ran short of things to say

But one day the wind blew the cloud to bits
And now far away and lonely it sits
In the blue wide expanse of sky
Asking the heavens what and why
What am I to be called forever more
When being complete was only with her

Cloud number eight seems such a fallacy
When nine was the center of his reality
Number eight without any cloud is cruel
For what else can in the skies truly rule?
She was more than one but less than it too
Now the nameless cloud knows not what to do

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