Why do clouds appear to be so fluffy
When in truth they are blurry brisk beings?
While they pretend to be really comfy,
They are imposters, their support fleeting.

Don’t judge a cloud by its cover, I say;
They look like little cushiony pillows,
But they are simply leading you astray,
Those overly penetrable billows.

Though they look like they will carry your weight,
They let you pass by, laughing as you fall.
They fly in the sky, those pearly white gates,
Watching you shrink to the size of a ball.

Remember, never trust a thing that feigns
Its appearance; it will laugh at your pain.