A tired cloud by an anonymous soul. 

Look at the clouds — tell me; what is it you see? Look at the ground– tell me; what it is you think? 

The black air, gets blacker, 

As the old west winds blow; 

The top soil blown away, dirt — gone with the wind. 

Many don’t remember the last time it rained. 

The wells are almost empty; only one reservoir remains. 

The clouds have been growing this entire time,

 it is painful, but still — they hold on. 
Each day they grow darker, and fear they’ll loose control. 

Each day that passes they become darker and colder. 

It is not long before the best of intentions begin — looking like the devils eyes. 

As they swell — you can begin to taste the water in the air. 

They cannot contain this darkness anymore — the time has come to let go. 

At first it was just a drop: then two and then three. 
The villagers were so thankful — for they were spared from this misery. 

And the cloud let go the years of water, it had once feared more than anything. 

And to the clouds surprise: he looked down to see not destruction, but in its place, a beautiful village– with thousands of house boats. 

Children jumped into the lake that they had so often missed. 

Nobody smelled because they could take showers again. 

The sky was no longer cold; for the sun shined brightly. 

And a rainbow reached across the azuel sky. 

And the cloud was happy — for it finally accomplished his goal. 

To make the world happy — to see the villagers down below laughing. 

A cloud must let go that is the way God intended. 

A cloud is a cloud — a human is a human. 

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