The wine that drips and falls from my lips
Comes from the perfect arched arbor
It pours so slowly
Taste sweet to my tongue
Like sugar
From that Red Top Cane being milled in the fall
Yet a little bit bitter all at the same time
That sweet southern Muscadine Wine
Intoxicates me like no other
Has me drunk for days
Washes away all of my troubles
Even if only a sip
Red
Is the color of my Muscadine Wine
Tall is the bottle it pours from
Smooth is the feel of it going down
Taking away all of the stress
All of the worry
At times
That I hold like Atlas holding the world
This Red drink of life gives me comfort
For days through hardships
Most would fall under
Most would break
Not me
Cause I’m still holding my bottle and drinking my Muscadine Wine
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