Poetry

Pareidolia or not?

Each cloud tells a story
Of wild animals
or laughing babies.
Of Barking dogs
or flying horses.
Of losing medals
or of winning glory
It seems, in actuality,
Each cloud tells a story.

In reality,
The white formation of mist
only shows our wish.
Like a mirror, it reflects
our mind, it inspects.
Each cloud, only tells
your true inner story.

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