As Clouds Drift By

By Sophie Lang

Sometimes, when I look at the sky

and the clouds just float –

so unbothered,

so untouched by time –

I envy them.

Because I will never fly.

Time is my greatest thief.

It steals my coulds

and swallows my woulds,

while I sit here,

trying to catch a rhyme

in this half-written poem

called life.

Truth slips through my fingers –

always almost,

never quite.

Because I’m just a small human

with too little time,

too much longing,

too much reaching for the why and when.

So I release the need to try

and simply look

as clouds drift by.

By Sophie Lang