They sail like ships on the deep blue
They become any shape that you choose
Some times they are dark and grey
And they will cry and cry all day
Strands of white string,
Or clumps of grey sugar,
Sometimes they wont drop anything,
But sometimes they drop the familiar cold white powder,
Their puffs of white look like a bed of cotton balls
When they wish, they will fall;
To brush the tips of houses and streets as they drift by,
And if you look closely, you'll see them fly
A/N
I'm sorry, you guys. I haven't published a new poem in a while, because I've been having writers block. And because I've been busy writing two other stories. I'll try and published another one later. Again, I'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
Poems And The Occasional Joke
ŞiirThis book is going to be many poems that I have written. I will continue to update as much as possible but I'm not promising anything. I hope you will like them because they take alot of work to make.
