The Lachrymose Nephologist

A cloud floats wispy high and white

Pure in a clean blue sky

A sky too blue to shed a tear

A sky that can never cry

The cloud now sees another there

Pure in a clean blue sky

They smile and drift and join each other

In a sky that still can’t cry

And now the cloud becomes a shape

Less pure in a clean blue sky

More clouds start merging soft together

In a sky that is yet to cry

The clouds are thick and full and low

Dark in a grey blue sky

The light almost hidden behind the veil

Of a sky preparing to cry

Now clouds are all that can be seen

No blue in a grey black sky

No sunlight in a broken world

As the sky begins to cry

A cloud floats wispy high and white

Pure in a clean blue sky

The storm passes over clearing the air

In time the tears will dry