So, my fellow followers of Bacchus,
Not sure if we’ve misplaced our trust;
The oenophiles talk of health and good cheer,
The truth is, our lives are bust.
Feelings you get after glass one and two
Mean glass number three is a must;
But as you go down this slippery slope
Your system is filling with rust.
For all those who are seeking redemption,
Consumption is part of the cure;
Reducing the quantity is the way,
By making the glasses fewer;
Relax the need to totally abstain
But make sure you avoid the lure,
The promise of pleasure will lead you on
Of that you can be sure.