Scy Scraper

And the clouds so briefly,
Caress the shimmering,
Skyscraper;
But only for a moment.
And so soft was the touch,
That the hard steel,
Wonders if it was,
Ever held by the gentle,
Cradle of the clouds.
It reaches for the sky once more.
The sky,
So glowing and warm;
Compared to the,
Cold streets of the city,
With the angry little ants,
Called people.
And while the wispy clouds,
Whisper momentarily,
Lips so close,
To the sky scraper’s,
Rigid cheek,
It wonders if it was ever,
Kissed at all.