Clouds Shine Too

Sitting down with the time given, every moment is spent looking to the sky.
Though my feet come up into view every now and then; I'm disciplined to look past that.
Sky hides its truth behind the clouds; but even my eyes don't need to know whats the truth behind the collection of evaporation.
There's nothing like an excuse to drop my pencil, I've ate the eraser off anyway; no point in pencil scratches.
Its been noted on a piece of documentary, unchanged, and unmotivated.
The sun has had its glory on parchment now its time for clouds to have itself in the limelight.
Clouds have only been covering up its jealousy throughout the sky.
Eyes search for a spot to see, and each pupil lays on the clouds hunched over the world walking on its third leg.
If only people would take off their blindfolds, they might have seen beauty in a different way, not only me.
Raise your hands in the air, and embrace each tear drop from the battle formation of the clouds.
Envelop a creative idea and spill crayons over the paper; never will you see a benevolent picture with a malevolent color of the sky's former skin.
Every time the sun has crushed clouds from bringing gloom, now its time to rise from the water.
Detailed, in every way, more curves than the woman loitering on the streets; itching for another hope of good weather.
Zoomed back into the reality, on a bus is where I sit still watching history's blindfold keep the truth from the sky.