My Thoughts Poem by Richard Marsden

In the storm that forest of waves,
The feelings jump they whisper and cry,
Plodding on with silent echo of unidentifiable love,
What?

The flight of the hairspray to the strands night night,
Be sound that eats the moon and glass,
Ten folds of the key,
Yes.

Hello,
Who?
Oh, now?
Ok,
Bye

I like that I like that I like that,
Mute the sound, go away to the future.
I don’t even like this, SCOOBY DOO.
Silent sunset slowly sailing straight to the sand.

Popcorn pops, Alfred, hi.