Quiana

What dreams have we kept, they ask us the ghosts, sat on bar stools bereft, leave us alone thank you, our skin might need soap, but we know something new, not to be fettered, twisted around like rope, let us take the weather, do what you say don't, faces strong as stones, who needs your purview, kind actions make us clever, carry tiny worms of hope, deep within our breasts, don't ask how we slept, or will we cope, on ships or stations left, summoning our dragoons, hearts burst their scope, being filled with virtue, requires polished tones.