Cloud, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
A grand boatless sail is now passing by,
Against the deep blue not leaving a wake.
Might accompany if I were to try,
With unknown path, just may be a mistake.
Now out of sight I know not where it went.
My chair is not of comfort anymore,
As the gears turn my mind starts to lament.
Could now be basking on a foreign shore.
Rocking in wonder, if it’ll ever be,
To latch upon an opportunity.
One as splendid, one which enables me,
Or to rock into mediocrity.
The future shall remain a great unknown,
It is up to me, the part which I’ll own.