Carefully being held
Carefully being held:
I’m a beverage, supposed to be hot
They always keep me in a cold slot.
I am a fluid – liqueur by name -
They drink me to enjoy or to kill their pain.
I’m in varied forms like sexy girls –
Lustful sweet and excitingly hot,
I’m known as whisky brandy gin or rum –
Or else in the name as Tequila shot.
They pour me in glasses under their greedy eyes
And make me tangy with soda and ice.
I move in the parties with warmth and pride
Or cozily in a corner under candle light.
I enjoy them staring at me with greed and thirst
I feel like a sweet sixteen, flirting with youth and lust.
I swing in many hands very carefully being held
With clinking of glasses and tinkling ice- the party is at best.
The moment I’m sipped in, I’m no more idle then
I rush through the arterial lines, finally to reach the brain,
I’m to give you a feel like a Cupid, Eros or a Hercules even
I’m to take you to the seventh sky with fairies - in Eden.
On tipsy toes you all will dance and sing
I’m to arouse you to a greater height.
I’m to make you smarter than truly what you are
I’m to give a feeling that you are a king or a Zar.
After the show ends in the dead of night
I’m to make you all lie down straight.
All the heaven, fairies or even the lovely dames -
Are then totally out of sight and quite away.
The drink which was supposed to be tipsy and hot –
Is left in the blood alone as an odd spot.
The party's darling of yesterday night -
Left vagrantly in a corner aside,
Waiting in the body with a total neglect –
For a spurge to be pissed out.
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