A Crazed Boy

Look at that crazed old boy improving his music. His is that musical kind is her poetry, and you are watching it evolve, you are dancing upon his windy there is sand, home is his grassy noled shore. His is a soul in division from two twists of fate of itself as she is climbing the dunes, falling back upon them forever it seems is one day taken aback from him, something leaves again. And she knowing his knot, but is to look where? No matter how high the palms they grow. Broad green leaves atop, opens the sun to flash. Hearing his common to dolphins hear intelligible sounds. But sang of, his wild tangled hair and sea-starved, open mouthed whales, hungry ocean filled waves. Being bipolar he is left on this vast island, with out them knowing he has left them, there all alone.