Ginny

Here's the question, why on a secret phone, you refuse all forensics, if there's no case, to answer your creaking bones, why do you hide away, say you hear whispers, of me in magenta tones, but who makes the trespass, don't blame the fates, for taking my loans, i'm the one intestate, how are you like this, flushed as a trombone, to escape being witness, your voice is still great, but no one condones, your fine line of hate, be careful at inquests, your face like blue bone, unknown and bitter, blow smoke on your own.