The Drinker

Copyright 2003

I’m not much of a drinker, but I did go to a bar with a buddy and observed the other customers sitting along side me. They all looked like poor, lost souls. I imagined myself as one of them, and this is what I came up with.

Lost souls sitting at the bar,

Drinking their lives away,

Not needing to go far.

Hurt souls crying at the bar,

Drinking away their loved ones,

Who have run away so far.

Come join us as we cry from within,

Smiling on the outside,

Inside things are grim.

One more shot of vodka,

One last swig of beer.

How I wish all my friends,

Were still with me here.

Here tonight,

And here tomorrow,

Drink away my hurt and sorrow.

Remembering not the things of a smile,

Only sad times,

That were never worthwhile.

Come drink with us,

the dark group of lost souls,

Fallen from grace and heaven,

Abandoning our roles.

We all were once such happy beings,

Dancing in the sun.

But years of uphill battles,

Made life difficult to be won.

If you look deep in your heart,

You may stay strong, not fall apart.

But if you step inside to drink,

The spirits will drown you,

Once you blink.

You think of happy times before,

Gone forever, nevermore.

And time runs out, far from your side.

This bar is refuge,

Where you can hide.

Will you ever come back, my love, to me?

Or are you really gone,

Never to see?

For here I am,

and here I stay,

Another round of vodka,

To help me float away.

Float away to that place I stay,

Deep within my mind.

The liquid spirits carry me,

To places hard to find.

Another shot, but it’s the last,

Another horrid night has passed.

To fall again, then helped to my feet.

I climb to my new home, my seat.

The bartender, my best friend now,

Will pour me no more,

When I lie on the floor.

I look at him,

and plead with a tear,

Just one more, I swear it,

For morning is near.

And when morning arrives,

And a new day comes forth,

I’m lonely and dying,

For the bar, my self-worth.