Grapes Are Sour

When things go fine,

Grapes are sweet,

When things turn bad,

Grapes are sour.

  

Till there is a likeness,

Speech is pleasant,

When there is a hatred,

Talk becomes foul.

 

The human approach differs,

With the circumstances,

The  gentle  behaviour  retorts,

With the turn of events.

 

 

There is no predictability ,

To Man’s action.

There is no formality,

To Man’s thoughts.

 

 

 

The mind wanders  in length

The tongue wags in magnitude

The mouth swears in excess

The heart  spites  in intensity.

 

 

The equilibrium is disturbed,

The balance is tilted,

There is an upturn,

There is a raging storm.