Darkened Clouds

The Darkest Clouds don't just fill the sky, 

Clouds fill the heads of weak minded children,

But like insects, they dig far, remaining hidden, 

They say its fake joking slyly, 

 

A glimmer of hope beings flittering,

Helping hands, so gentle and comfortable,

Pick the weakminded children not memorable, 

Still Clouded by Darkness, now with hearts burning 

 

Your mind never to be cleansed 

Only holds the hand of its guide—

For so long. then its time, knowing you tried,

To let yourself know it was fogged

 

Amidst the weakminded crowd, 

Anyone crazy, willing to try,—

Guided with caring hands up the sky

Go far above the Darkest Clouds. 

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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