There are clouds.
From my window
pass by
Clouds fluttering under the blue sky.
Much like someone's life.
in fact
This cloud has no special meaning.
This is not interesting.
High-rise window
Every day.
Such a cloud passes by at your fingertips.
Where did they come from?
I don't know where to go.
perhaps
There is a strong wind blowing.
Blow them away without a trace
It's like
The man who suddenly broke into my heart
But sink into the past and disappear sadly.
At this moment, there is a cloud.
Look at me quietly at the window.