Silver Sea Poem by Rebecca Stansfield

The daft fish of the silver sea,
always swimming and yet they cannot see,
that the noose is loose,
and then they wondering for more room.
The sun refection on an ocean deep,
but the hill is slanted and it is steep,
and the animals cry,
and they wonder why,
the birds and tree's are loved much more,
but they don't understand that they live in lore,
when the birds weren't tame,
and the fish weren't lame.
Lame as upward leaves stuck on a tree, on a tree,
the aim of gliding fishes in the sea,
confuses me.
We cannot and do not want to even see,
but I am me,
and the glory of the story battles with me,
always with me.