Funnel The Grapes Poem by Madrason .

If you start to ponder
pounding on any wonder
don't wonder why
all is left to decay
you sentence decadence
to play it's grand role
oh how you should drench a soul
could draw the beating heart
in which you fail to sense
frail winter Crystals
white shadowy scapes
the freezing air teasing flames
names you try to forget
the empty bed
the untarnished sheets
a sudden cry
the baby needs some tending
just like that child in you
needs mending too.