People are like clouds

People are like clouds. Blown by the wind, continuously transforming. Most of them are a beautiful view for a while, nothing quite specific, up to imagination. Some are just a mix of grey, hesitating which way to go. Then they all fade away.

And then there are the weird ones. Aiming for heartitude, full of thunders and lightnings, always moving, from inside out, finally dissolving in tremendous rains. They are the only ones that, when they leave, fade into rainbows.

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