Clouds poetry

Paint our future

Can one still be the artist of his or her life

Aren't we the artist or is fate?

Can one still be the artist if there's no love–

In their life? What/who is a artist without love?

Placing a bucket under the skyline outside hoping

The stars may get to sleepy and drop in there but we can not be,

selfish because there's people who look up to the
stars, getting drunk at midnight,

But we can ask the sky at day to call on the rainbow

and lend us some paint in our palettes for we'll paint out future on a canvas.

-ashes poetry