Condescending Look of Knowing

Clouds amaze me, smiling down
That condescending look of knowing
Predictions allot no accuracy and opinions prove only faulty plea
Of what is to come, rain or sun
The storm approaching or long since done
Trusting or loving, constructs to be analyzed, scrutinized
Things that can't hold water
Spilling, spreading onto a dirty floor
Holding tightly to constants - two and two is always four
Is it worth a try or a soul, to bring beauty into a world?
That may otherwise continue in a complacent state
And never know the effect that one small discomfort could have made
No, I'll stay small and invisible, let the world dictate such things…
And you will never see me smiling, that condescending look of knowing