Clouds slice into the sky
False gashes that stretch
Causing synthetic tears to be cried.
These clouds do not rain
They only pollute
Spewing from the throats of cars and planes
Obscuring the sky's immortal stars from view.
False artists begin to sketch,
Causing synthetic ink to be spilt
Their masterpieces do not speak,
They only salute.
Only giving a hello, an acknowledgement, never a question.
Never a whisper, "I'm afraid" or "I wish I would fade."
Just alluring everyone who sees them.
Lines cut into paper,
These lines do not rain.
The clouds still slice into the sky
Synthetic tears continue to ooze from eyes
A smile is a great disguise
As is a splash of puffy white
Against a canvas of blue.
YOU ARE READING
Jars of Stars
RandomThis is a collection of the poems I've typed up on my iPad. I've noticed I enjoy incorporating nature and space into my poetry, so if you dig nature and space read my poems! Some of them are dark, some are brighter, some rhyme and some are just word...
