English: Glass of Red Wine with a bottle of Red Wine shot on a white background. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
This wine has aged too much
Gone past its prime
The redness of its hue
Is soaked with time
This wine has soured its taste
Its time has passed
The toast that it may seek
Is fading fast
This wine is blood-red lies
Like twisted hearts
And all the connoisseurs
Will soon depart
This wine was never good
Its grapes were never fine
I see this love we lost
Is so much like this wine
(c) Helen Valentina 2013, All Rights Reserved
helenvalentina 
“I see this love we lost, is so much like this wine.” Sigh…..I know these thoughts well. Great poem, Helen. Big hugs. I am right there with you in these thoughts as of late.
Thank you Skye, many times I write of the past as my love life at least is non-existent at the moment, which makes it a lot calmer than when I was young so I am well content!! 🙂 🙂
I tap into those painful moments often as well. Unfortunately, there is a lot to draw from. I am so blessed that you are well content now!!!
I prefer real ale myself.
LOL! 🙂 🙂
I know this feeling – though I do not drink wine. I can look at anything that rots to be the metaphor for a lost love.
Exactly, thank you!! 🙂 🙂
Excellent metaphor, the second to last stanza is my favorite =)
Thank you!! 🙂 🙂
Brilliant metaphor – nothing like gone-off wine or love!
Very true re wine and love, thank you so much!! 🙂 🙂
Damn girl, you’re in fire! Love it!
Thanks so much, that is very kind!! 🙂 🙂