Barbara

Bad news is never shared easy, especially with your ways, you never did gild the lily, an ice cold fish knife, is no child's game, held towards my eyes, slash of steel cuts disease, chasing good times these days, the woman you wish to be, no siren of strife, who cannot be tamed, but to find your own life, saw what you needed to see, called each night a name, a silk and golden odyssey, said what you needed to me, things are never the same, salt tongue on the breeze, bomb shells in your gaze.