The grapes are crushed

Real and true, our feelings crushed give pain
Though beautiful dried flowers are shown much grace
Yet lying does not aid us nor does blame

Can we be kind and in kindness contain
The sorrow and oblivion of our place?
Real and true, our feelings crushed give pain

Do we fear to lurch  and be insane:
Lose our minds and live with that disgrace
Lying does not aid us nor does blame

The grapes are crushed and then made into wine
Yet humans tested cry for our embrace.
Real and true, our feelings crushed give pain

Dark our faces grow as if in shame
What has brought us to this awful place
Lying does not aid us nor does blame

Round the room all night I endless pace
Seeking  of the lost a tiny trace
Real and true, our feelings crushed give pain
Will we find the space  to play again?