Reading is a series of human emotions. Writing is the gift of sharing these emotions.
He covers his nose when he yawns,
He tilts his head when he’s drawn,
He wipes his sweat with the back of his hand,
He glares his eyes at people he scans,
He pouts his lips and whines like a kid,
But his quirks are things I take heed.
He’s everywhere in the clouds;
I can see and hear him through the loudest crowd.
He can sing,
He can dance,
I can see him laugh,
I can see him cry,
But he can never hear me,
Nor can he ever see me,
Because my euphoria stays in the clouds.
© 2020 Shey Saints
Shey Saints (author) from Philippines on July 15, 2020:
Thank you for the nice comments and for taking time in reading and providing feedback.
Shawindi Silva from Sri lanka on July 15, 2020:
I love your poem. Great work!!
manatita44 from london on July 15, 2020:
Yeah. An interesting and common one. Life... good poetry.
Lorna Lamon on July 15, 2020:
Your beautiful poem is like being on cloud 9. Loved it.