New Poetry
The Cloud Factory
by Joe Hall
There is a place...
It may sound like a fairytale
But alas, it is true.
There is a factory where all clouds are made,
But that's not what they tell me and you.
Everyone thinks it's a steel mill,
But the truth is that they lied.
Metal is only a byproduct of what they steal.
I know- I've been inside.
It's a horrible place owned by horrible people.
Inside it is cold and grey.
There are many workers there too...
Unwittingly lured there by good pay.
You see the plan is sneaky,
Once they get the people in
They all have their hopes and dreams
And that's where it all begins.
The workers, while they toil
Think about what they wish for.
Their dreams fill the air,
But greed makes them want more.
The mill's machines gather the dreams
Sucking them right out of the air,
Then they are burned in a furnace.
I know it hardly seems fair.
They take the hopes of a lifetime
From over a thousand men,
A little bit more each day...
Each day the men return again.
These dreams have all been stolen,
So part of what they make is steel.
That's how they got the name,
I know it hardly seems real.
The other things they make are clouds
From the furnaces which they stoke.
The dreams of all those poor men
All gone up in smoke.
When the men are all used up
Then they realize the cost.
For a few dollars they squandered their lives.
Now they weep for the time they lost.
So enjoy each day as it comes
And always live happy and proud.
Do what your heart instructs
Lest you also end up a cloud.

Divider Line

Home Index
Sitemap Apply for Award
Top of Page Search Site
Mail Help

Divider Line

The design and content of this page Copyright (C) 1997-2000 by Steve Donohue for the Winter Camp Future Society
If you believe we are using copyrighted material, please contact the webmaster
All rights reserved