MIDNIGHT MUSE: CELLARS OF OUR MIND

POETRY WARNING🚨 WINE AHEAD

Our memories are wine;
once grapes upon the vine
now stored away within the cooling
cellars of our mind -

We hoard our hours away
against the coming day
when we are left alone, bereft of
lives we've left behind -

Uncork and fill the glass!
The sweetness comes to pass
the love is there, our answered prayer; the
grapes once more we find -

Memories defined