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Fluffy, white clouds float clumsily across the sky,

A plain blue canvas on which to write these words,
           

Flows out like blood from an open wound,
           

So much hurt,
           

So much pain,
           

And pours down like rain,
           

A monsoon to engulf those who don't believe,
           

Awash with grief,
           

Drowning in sorrow and the early morning sun
           

Brings with it sweet relief,
           

But the sun always sets,
           

Bleeds into the paper,
           

Ink on blank canvas,
           

Summer never comes.