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Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.
Why can’t I
Enjoy myself
With time for leisure
Why can’t I
Be bothered
With those mundane tasks
Why can’t I
Be satisfied
Surrounded by material things
Why can’t I
Return love
To One so precious
Why can’t I
Be sure
Of finding the missing piece
Why can’t I ?

— The End —