Till The New Wine, Poem by George Samuel

Till the new wine,
The teens dine,
And whine in absolute booze,
About future vows;
Some bled and broken-hearted.

Each, a burden of his cross,
As the wine went Some minds froze;
Many dreams were a mountain to climb,
That start from the mind;
Now only the wine could help,
In this moment future was first.

Those who dream of becoming doctors,
hated blood.

Those who dream of becoming lawyers,
hated lies.

Those who fancy the military,
hated guns.

Those who dream of becoming priest,
love girls..