Red Wine Never Comes Out

She scrubbed and scrubbed every last thread

In her hand, an old rag and some spray

The stain on the carpet stayed bright and red

She decided to use a different rag instead

Her hand cramped as she cleaned away

She scrubbed and scrubbed every last thread

“I can’t believe I spilled it,” she said

And in a vain attempt, she spritzed more spray 

The stain on the carpet stayed bright and red

It looked almost like someone had bled 

Bright red with wine, what once was gray 

She scrubbed and scrubbed every last thread

I should’ve picked the white wine instead

Please, come out, she continued to pray

The stain on the carpet stayed bright and red

Despite her efforts, the stain just spread

It had barely faded, to her dismay

She scrubbed and scrubbed every last thread 

The stain on the carpet stayed bright and red