Love is a bar.
You enter it deliberately, hoping to enjoy.
You sit and look for the best .
You have your peers with experience and knowledge as helpers.
You order for the best of available ones.
Then you hesitate.
To do or not to do.
But you see the gorgeous,
intelligent bottle in front of you.
Then you get enough encouragement that
you grab the courage to open the bottle.
You open and the fresh foams come out seeking your attraction.
You sip it ,and make weird faces at your friends.
Then you want it more and gulp it once.
Now you know what it is like.
Now it has become your habit and you say you cannot live without it.
Sometimes you cry over it,
pour your heart after it.
When you are fed up with one type,
you move on to the other.
Intoxicated you lose your sleep.
You want it and you don't want it.
You know the consequences , you know the climax.
But you keep on trying.
And one day you become totally exhausted and hysteric.
Now you see no bottles.
You are out of the bar.
You regret and ruminate the old days.
You advice others not to enter bar but no one listens.
They don't know how dangerous a bar can be!
A.C
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