My heart is like a bottle of fine wine;
A wine that's fermented in the bottle,
It took countless years to fill up all fine,
From the nightmares of encountered battle.
Nevertheless, my lips sipped the bittersweet.
It was mixed with doubts and impure tissues,
Combine prejudice and taste obsolete,
Blended with the large drip of trust issues.
After all the bottle of wine is brave.
It also embodies good intentions,
Virtuousness and compassion to pave,
Bottle of heart no good for deceptions.
So come and my pleasure you'll take a sip,
But bring a handkerchief to wipe the drip.