Wine, Red

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
In terms of creative writing, poems have never been what I have turned to in order to spill out what I feel. This is my first ever attempt at a poem, coming at a time when I am thinking about a lot and wanting to put it down in writing. To more expert writers, it might have a number of flaws. I will gladly take advice, but I hope that people also find its message compelling! Thanks!

Submitted: June 19, 2016

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Submitted: June 19, 2016



Wine, red, pouring down the sink

You remind me of a night of which it hurts now to think

As you empty from the bottle I am taken to the brink

Like the night before, a heightening to the end of pleasure

He left in the morning, would he have been a curse or a treasure?


I forget how much you affect me so

I don’t touch you very often as your defeat is slow

A taste so sweet, like the taste of his lips

You blurred the beauty of the grind of my hips

Though you make it easier, confidence so high

As night turns to day you bring me to cry

You remind me of what now can never be

Our one and only meeting, him and me


Of variety you know well, choice so diverse

But for humans the finding of the one is a curse

Your mocking is tormenting as I think of what could have been

In my eyes, temporarily, it leaves a gleam


For a holy drink you are devilish in form

Befriending initially, but then leaving me torn

Between pursuing something which may have been sacred

And facing reality, inside I am naked


Exposed, self-conscious, I fall to the floor

Someone I grew close to

Was leaving through the door

For the first time, the final time

It could never again arise

We are leading different lives, we separated at sunrise


Standing here now, as you pour down the sink

I realise you are a story of a drink

Though you make me feel so many emotions

I now understand the notion

That what I want, its chances are thin

You leave down the drain, and your holder in the bin


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