A wine tale

A Poem by Scarlet ray

Close bosom friendships burning down the street
The New merry wine suddenly tasted sweet
The Dust guttered huts burnt their in their guts
The Mud crusted bread made it worse
Two square meal was a game of trust
Doors creaked, broken beneath itching rust
“Wine now, somehow” said a thirteen year old first
Glasses chinked ,cheers shared and followed the rest

Nights spent near wooden gutters on a bar’s night bench
Planning stealth with strategy to steal and revenge
Taunted by a women’s necklace, plans going reckless
Yet sprawled to snatch it, though left defenceless
His wailing mother awaited her son after work
His illiterate father served as a clerk
Somewhere his two sisters cleaned tables as their guests quietly smirked
Never remembered them in the streets he lurked

Drunken dead on a road, who shall save his life
Lung congestion or a liver cancer was the wrath of his wife
Heads high but never spoke afraid of his own breathe
The cost an uncontrolled mind shall fetch
No more the friendships blossomed in the street
poverty and hunger were his morning greet
Yet luxurious enough for stacked wine and raw meat
At the sound of a police siren, the man shall fleet

The glories of his thirteen followed him to this day
Just Twenty five his hair yet happened to be grey
His family became strangers, in him an animal saw they
Tomorrow I’ll quit”, was the word of everyday
Bones rusted, heart raced and his legs trembled
His Nerves weakened, blood rushed and his hand fumbled
As he ransacked the gutter hut for any money left
Craving a sip of the new wine fest

And when his mother came panting to her son in greed
And caressed him and hugged him to ask what was his need
He found a sum “earned” from his stealthy deeds
“Don’t drink, pay medical bills ”she pleads
Altercations and heated arguments between the two
Neighbors gossiped that it wasn’t new
As he grabbed the steel knife kept on the set
And swiftly silenced his own mother for the brew.