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A poem of wine tasters drowned in their selfishness |
WINE-TASTERS Watch them sip their wine every night Reliving that day that they took that great plight Answer the wine-tasters when they're speaking to you Or else you shall face a terrible doom When they stop listening though, don't dare interrupt Or your life they will surely corrupt Those wine-tasters, merrily sipping their wine Having a wonderful, merry-old time Not seeing the trail of hate they leave behind Not seeing the loathing in their own eyes The wine-tasters, oh so proper and prim Don't ever have time to fit you in They sit there and sip that red juice, down they drink Not seeing the fact that in that wine they sink Their lives are stained red and that's all they can see The blood, gore and wine of those who they used to care for deeply They clink those glasses together and toast That in their lives they get the best and the most The wine-tasters, sipping, drinking, gulping in those they loved Bringing them into this world where they're battered and shoved Those wine-tasters with fake smiles and laughs as their disguise, Those wine-tasters slowly drinking in their demise |