Quinn

It's hard to identify, that misty time, when dreams grew so high, what part of me emptied, and other parts denied, the rise of a flood tide, who needs an inquiry, when love fails our sight, or is then simply buried, witness blurred lamp lines, boardwalk planks so tight, between moon and th sky, wash down blue Daiquiri's, laugh at our uneven flight, it makes for a trilogy, every walk of life, contains buckets of cries, each to their own trial, you're my security light, pooled outside the wire, hold me in twilight, don't ask why ?