Woes Of A Teetotaler

Oft in extravaganza have I sighed among elite masses,

Upon turning down modest invites of clinking glasses.

For long suppressed the dark innate desire to booze,

& somewhere every time little sorrow did my heart ooze.

Ah! The woes of a Teetotaler!

Have been a fond witness to some fizzy Champagne,

Then glanced away & grabbed a cola, all in disdain.

Thought of stealing a sip from its sparkling heart so pure,

How is it, what they call the ultimate distress cure?

Ah! The woes of a Teetotaler!

Certainly one day will I walk up to the sexy Red Wine,

Embrace her elegantly, kiss her, gently make her mine.

Will enjoy her companionship till heart’s content,

And forever will I cherish those leisurely moments spent.

Ah! The woes of a Teetotaler!

Not to mention the brilliance of magnificent Sir Whiskey,

However to hang out with His Majesty is undeniably dicey,

His enigmatic facade sweeps you to a world of utopia,

Calls for some inarticulate exhilaration and euphoria.

Ah! The woes of a Teetotaler!

Post all the sweet daydreaming, I wake up to realize,

A sworn teetotaler I am and alcohol I despise,

At once the delusions fade, thwarted I walk away,

But in my spirit the yearning furtively finds its stay.

Ah! The woes of a Teetotaler! Indeed!