Watching the sky

I'm out of breath,

I'm telling a long story,

I hope to find an end,

so I can come live again.

Everytime I watch a cloud,

I see its time, pass down,

and even tought it's short,

it maximise it down,

to protect me to a hot sun,

one of those beautiful days.

Will, may, I go,

to be a cloud in the summer,

to be more than who am I,

to be just somebody,

who can strive out, more,

than what I've shown.

And after all the wrath,

over the rainy days,

one day I'll find peace,

in some desert field,

watching the sky pass by,

smiling at me for being there.

I hope this day comes soon,

as I feel, sold,

out of me.