The Clouds

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I see the blue sky above,
The home for the Eagle n the Dove,
I see on it the huge bales of cotton,
Which remain there even in autumn

So fluffy the cotton seems,
Just like the yummy creams,
Which r life's delight,
And proves good to sight

These fluffy cotton moves all around,
N sometimes produces a thunder sound,
With a spark of light,
Everywhere that spreads fright

But this light, this thunder,
Are not what we wonder,
They're what it feels,
To us which is a big deal

As it cries n makes us wet,
With its tears to whom it met,
Cotton isn't the name that suits it the best,
Hence, "Cloud" it's known by the rest

By:- Mukashifa Patrick

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