Clouds

It was a gray, rainy morning

as I lifted off;

The ground couldn’t hold me

the sky pulled me aloft,

And the rain washed down my pane

like rivers of tears,

And the clouds above

swallowed my fears.

I was lost in the misty gray;

Oh, I was flying,

flying away.

And whether or not

I wanted to stay, or to go

Although I, just maybe, might’ve said no,

I didn’t have a choice;

I had to leave.

Somewhere else needed me.

And as much as I may need you, too,

if someone is calling,

I have to go.

I’m not the kind of girl

who just says no.

But above the clouds,

the sun is shining. .  .

I can’t see the rain,

the clouds aren’t crying.

All I see is the blue,

and the sun,

and the white.

See, the clouds aren’t gray

on the other side.

And oh, I’m flying,

flying away.

Dagenn

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