Just when you think,

They're by your side,

Each word slips,

From your hands really nice.

Like grains of sand,

Flowing in the current,

Like grey clouds in the air,

Buzzing with current.

Then suddenly,

They come and they disappear,

These words that carry,

Thunderstorms near.

Me and wherever I go,

Leaving a bit of me as I flow,

Carrying some grains with me each time,

As the clouds follow me by my side.