Gray clouds have covered
The night sky and the pale moon.
The sky has been hurt
And she begins to cry.
The clouds begin to shed tears
And they fall on the roof.
Here in my bed,
I watch the rain
Fall on my window.
The softly whistles
To comfort the weeping sky.
Then the tears stop
Splashing on little ponds.
The sky has stopped crying
And have regained her confidence.
She is fine now
And the rest of the night
Is clear and silent
With only the remaining teardrops
Falling to the ground.
