Clouds

Cottons in the sky

So deceiving everytime you passes by

Ever changing I cannot predict a thing

You rob colors from the sun

And flaunt it to my son

You bring laughter and bad omen

You travel around

Without bounds

Bringing hopes and doubts

Causing pessimists to pout

Waiting for you to empty the sky

But hoping you'll come back

With a shape of white feather on a hat.