The glass…

Once upon a weekend toils,

as I sat forever loyal,

I caught upon a glass,

with handle as fine as brass.

 

In this glass was pure deluxe,

wonders that I shouldn’t touch,

but down my throat it went,

with ever drop spent.

 

As I drank forever humble,

I felt so dizzy I took a tumble,

down the stairs to my surprise,

right into the unsuspecting bride.

 

bride so angry she came to shout,

angry look with such a pout,

I ran away with such a fright,

and came upon such a sight.

 

Bump right into the groom I did,

and he in turn fell on the cake,

the cake in turn fell on the floor,

and I in turn ran out the door.

 

My mother gave me quite the scolding,

for the mess I made, and the cake not holding.

took me by the ear with  force,

brought me back to the wedding with remorse.

 

For you see I am only sixteen,

full of attitude and sometimes mean,

the glass I drank was in fact wine,

the wedding was my sister’s time to shine.

 

For I did not have one glass, but four,

then proceeded to drink more.

I apologized for the mess I made,

and my dear sister let me stay!

 

For the lesson here, is quite a simple one indeed.

don’t you drink at sixteen, I plea!

wait you time, or you’ll be in quite a worry,

and with your actions you’ll be sorry!

 

glass

One Comment Add yours

  1. Karla M says:

    I love your blogs! So creative and so.. REAL
    THIS POEM IS SO CUTE AND FUNNY WITH A CATCH! I’ll be checking in for more 🙂

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