Yolanda

Can you please signify, through that back door, between moon and sky, why cash has been emptied, and other parts floored, by your high tide, don't need an inquiry, when truth is bought, with what you hide, witness the ferry , after you’re caught, where rich men dine, some drink Daiquiri, laugh even bored, what makes them happy, each walk of life, ends in a nought, should see their wives, by security heavies, pooled on the porch, in winter's crevisse, do you keep score ?