The Sky

I look up to the sky, to try and find the words to say, on how it takes away my breath into its endless beauty I try to find the right paraphrases the rhyme scheme to say to it. The way I want to thank it for being there when I was alone, for being there for when I needed comfort.  For being my muse I thank the sky, its constant consistency in being beautiful, its vivid emotions and its gentle breezes that guide a man’s thoughts to the sweet scent of a woman.  The feeling of “you don‘t know what you have till it’s gone” it doesn’t apply to the sky the only bad thing about the sky is, is that she is not yours alone. You share the sky with everyone on this world. You share it with the whores, the bums, the pimps, thieves and average people of this world. One thing that makes the sky different for you is that you cherish it while, all of the whores and pimps and leeches of the world simply look up to it and complain about the clouds blocking their views, the sun is too hot, never seeing the beauty that is there the simplistic pleasure of the endless depth of the sky. Painted like Da Vinci himself took his brush and painted the earth, the breezes blown across the like waters wafting back and forward lifting and dragging its inhabitants with it on its journey to something great. So I look to the sky, to save me from my meaningless existence as I jump to it to reach for the clouds, my arms reach and the sky gets farther and farther away, then nothingness. Just peace of mind, I challenge every person on this earth to change their way of thinking toward beauty, to a free open ended beauty that nothing else can compare.


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