CASTAWAY
He grabbed me round my slender neck,
I could not shout or scream,
He carried me into his room
Where we could not be seen;
He tore away my flimsy wrap
And gazed upon my form -
I was so cold and still and damp,
While he was wet and warm.
His feverish mouth he pressed to mine; I let him have his way -
He drained me of my very self,
I could not say him nay.
He made me what I am. Alas!
That's why you find me here...
A broken vessel - broken glass -
That once held Bottled Beer.
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