bar


Something about this bar in the atmosphere,
its dark enough to disappear.
Sometimes I like to go in the night,
after all the light weights go on home.
When the music is loud and cold scotch in your hands,
all my troubles seem to fade into the shadows of the bar.

Now that bartender she smiles so sweetly,
but she doesn't want you just your money.
Men are gullible with their cash.
I once saw a lonely man tip a few hundred,
just to be heart broken when she left,
I wonder what was he even thinking.
All my troubles seem to fade into the shadows of the bar.

When the sun is raising,
and the last drunk stumbles out the door,
I get one last shot before I get going,
All my troubles seem to fade into the shadows of the bar.

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This Poems Story

an average day at the bar