In the company of ordinary people,
Clammy night encapsulated,
Out of fifty languid souls,
Lined up against the host’s burgundy wallpaper
Stinking of nicotine no less,
Waiting for a firing squad
Or another drink which would suffice,
There are eyes fixed upon you,
The wine glass circumventing
The ridge of the nose
To their teeth and lips
And you know why,
And you exude partly
The ambiance and experience
Over the years
Life differs and the seconds cannot be retracted.
And when they are compared.
The wine tastes bitter
Envy raises its green eyes from the glass,
Have another goblet of wine
And tell me what is happening in your life
And I will pop some caviar on a cracker
And it will come naturally to me.
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