Many drink wine,

but she drank bile,

a bitterness,too ugly,

too profane to explain,

that vile liquid that assaulted her,

with each passing day,

but on some days,

rare as they may be,

as her supposed savior,

a merciful distillation occurred,

vinegar at last,

that horrible pigment was lifted,

but only for that day,

for as soon as night fell,

it dyed the liquid with each darkening hour,

the morning was reborn,

and the bile restored,

by then savored as well,

for now her tongue too,

had metamorphosed,

a distinguished palate,

reduced to a decrepit organ,

unable to tell sour from bitter,

let alone comprehend the concept of sweet,

alas but what a shame,

for on the eve of her tongue’s demise

was the day,

her horrible bile,

had crystallized to sugar.


be sure to purge (thoughts,ideas,complaints) if at all you feel the nudge

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