2.10.2016

People of the Cloud


These men crowded way up in the sky,
Have little in common with you or I.
They smile at each other and are quick to buy-
Any ride that's red that floats miles high.

Then they rise and hide in a cloud,
Where they float real close and talk so loud,
About how they're so much better than thou-
'Cause they only like red and not colors like brown.

And all about how they'd rather drown-
Than to lower themselves and ever come down.
Because floating around is superior to our town,
High up in the sky, not down with us on the ground.