For fifty years, my needs came first.
The first wine poured assuaged my thirst,
but passing years do grace incline
so first I pour my guest their wine

and patient wait until they taste
to see if it's with poison laced.
I once refused to share my food,
though no one thought me cheap or rude

since those who sniffed what I prepared
felt blessed when found it was not shared.
Real reason that my kitchen stunk
was character, milieu of skunk.

My life's been long, no sins I've claimed.
Of penal crimes, I won't be blamed.
No one will mourn when my life ends
I've chased away all trace of friends.

My written words that linger still,
do have some worth, good purpose fill.
The message plain, where those words reach
You must know sin, before you preach.

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