Tears, vintage champagne of the soul,
Liquid pain, reflections of dreams that were bought and sold.
Fills life's cup with a sweet or bitter taste,
Signaling joy, or the sadness of waste.
To raise life's cup, in celebration or with regret,
Toasting fond memories, or in resolve to forget.
Time Travel through portals of the present and past,
Savoring seconds of joy, fleeting, never meant to last.
To drink from the bottle, again and again,
With the shining hope, for a happy end.
Tears are shed with a hello and a good-bye,
At the first breath, or death's final sigh.
No one can sample your vintage, it is yours alone,
Feelings whisper silently, urging for peace or the need to atone.
So toast life with tears, the vintage champagne,
Drink deeply from the cup, as you taste the pleasure and pain.