This poem was originally published on 10 July 2016.
Do you cork your heart, Like a fine red wine, Taking care not to spill a dot? For should you stain your shirt, Like an arrogant flirt, You’re afraid you’d drink till you drop. Do you spend your time, As if it were gold, Investing in nothing wrong? Or do you treat it like a penny, Adding up one too many, In the depths of the shabby chaise longue? Do you pawn your health, Like an undervalued antique, Simply to acquire costly bauble? Perchance you lose face, Under your skin there’ll be space, For every monster to breed and squabble. Do you tenderise your brain, Like a pound of flesh, To make it more inviting? For should it find itself hardened, And successively sharpened, People will feel its unmistakable biting.