Just a grape on the vine
Green with the heat of the summer
Round globes with colors meet
Looking for water at our dirty feet
To mature with plenty of meat
We vine out in all directions
Looking for our selfies
in the dews reflection
Maybe I'm am not ripe today
As the hands check me out
And move away
Picking others next to me
Maturity means quality
Or maybe I am not
Your grape?
The taste of wine is hard to navigate
Clarity is hard to define
You have your taste and I have mine.
The flavor is always a question
Or you could be moving in the wrong
Direction.
Choices can be bitter or sweet
As you touch me in the summer's heat.
By scottleebaker
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