If I were a cloud poem

If I am a cloud, it is a symbol of purity, if I am a cloud. I like those magical white clouds. I wish I were a cloud, flying in the air! If I were a cloud, I would run to the hot desert. I saw a few small trees standing listlessly in this hot desert, exhausted. I caught a light rain with the raindrops on my body. The young trees drank delicious rain, and small green leaves grew on the branches. I laughed happily, too. The pupils wrote If I were a Cloud. If I were a cloud, I would play in the air, sometimes I would say hello to Grandpa Sun, sometimes I would play with lovely birds, and sometimes I would play hide-and-seek with everyone, so that they wouldn't find me. Cloud, always so happy and always so kind. Cloud is naughty and cute. I like clouds. How I wish I were a cloud! If I am a cloud, what is failure? Nothing, just a step closer to success; What is success? That is, after all the roads leading to failure, there is only one road left, and that is the road to success. I am a cloud, a white and flawless cloud falling slowly-I am looking for you carefully in the elegant courtyard of the mountain stream-a small flower and a thin bud. Maybe you are scarred and dying. As long as your genes still have the breath of life, I would like to turn you into dew and let your fragrance reappear. A continuous spring rain quietly, quietly sprinkled on the countryside, roadside, town, alley, I carefully look for a grass, a new bud, a sharp point in you. Maybe you have been trampled, broken plants, withered leaves. As long as your faith in life is still alive, I would like to turn it into milk to suck, let your youth continue to bloom and make that spring more beautiful. I am a cloud, a white cloud, a continuous spring rain * * * rippling with love, looking for me slowly-I am looking for you carefully, just like my poem-the jumping notes make life understand-and send out that wonderful melody.