Forgotten Red Rose Bush
Oops, I fell,
Or was I pushed?
Beside a forgotten red rose bush.
Then down and down and down I went,
Onto a block of gray cement,
I landed there, and landed hard,
My frame was sore, my mind was jarred.
“What the hell,” I muttered sadly,
I thought I heard you laugh quite madly,
But maybe it wasn’t you,
Maybe my view was just askew.
Maybe it’s not the time to ponder,
Too often I find my mind does wander.
I stood up to stretch my back,
And to forget that chance attack,
When suddenly my eye was caught,
By two jars that looked store bought.
They were labeled (that’s required),
The labels said they were expired.
“Gross,” I thought but looked more closely,
At the blackened bottle mostly,
Its label was clear, it wasn’t too sly:
If you drink me, you will die.
“Yikes to that,” I said not humored,
Although my dismal nature’s rumored,
I wouldn’t want to drink its contents,
For that would be some straight up nonsense.
I moved on to the other bottle,
Dipped into that one there full throttle.
Its glass was colored a happier shade,
It reminded me somewhat of lemonade.
I browsed the label which simply said,
You know you want to. Go ahead.
“Hm,” I said, then figured out,
The label knew what it was talking about.
I uncorked the top and gave a sniff,
Ugh, you wouldn’t want a whiff,
But that stopped me not, from going ahead,
“Please freak drink, don’t make me dead.”
I chugged its contents then gave a gasp,
And to my chest my hands did clasp,
I gagged a bit, then gagged some more,
“Oh my, that’s foul, I mean, good lord!”
My breaths started to sound quite raspy,
Seriously though, it wasn’t classy.
Then things went black and kind of blue,
Then sorta paisley, what a hue.
Darkness then, as I fell faint,
(which is expected from a drink of taint).
Sometime later, I don’t know when,
I found myself awake again,
Beside the forgotten red rose bush,
Where I suffered the initial push.
I felt just fine, not bothered at all,
Which was odd after such a fall.
The only thing that made me leery,
And frankly I find this not so cheery,
Is that after I drank the expired wine,
I’ve found I could only speak in rhyme.
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