The Truth
The truth is I am not as pristine as it may appear.
At my heart are many billion specs of dust.
I would not form without these minute particles of Mother Earth.
That fills our skies, blown high into the atmosphere by desert winds.
They give me something to hang onto when the air chills.
These little specs populate every home.
And where they land you clean, dust and vacuum.
All they are to you is a chore.
But for me, they are like the blood that flows in your veins.
So, the next time you drink a glass of ice-cold water.
Give thought to my tiny neighbours who made me into what I am today.
The fluffy white Cumulus Nimbus, just another cloud sailing by in the blue sky.
F/N: The Truth (Achievement #29) – is a cloud personification poem
YOU ARE READING
Why? PoetsPub 2021 Achievement Hunter Challenge
PoetryCompilation of submissions to @PoetsPub Summer 2021 Challenge.
