Thomas Reid Music Musician Poetry PoetTranscript:

The tender rose pedal runs.

Its awkward angles carried by the wind.

It doesn’t look back.

The thorns it broke from watch it fly.


The thorns feel too.

Thomas Reid Music Poetry


A Stare

A sunlit afternoon under everlasting rain

A resting stroke of chalk ever washed away by pain

A cup that runneth over, only waiting for it’s drain

All inside yours eyes at once is all that makes me sane


A reason to be happy


A reason just to be happy