Day: January 21, 2015

Leaving

This bar is getting old

The people here are stale, crusted

I think this place has run its last race

This old horse sinks back to the barn

With no way to lift its heavy head

Enjoy the barn, while you can

The glue factory has a contract out on you

Just like chum for the fishes

Wood for the chipper

Finished

All through

Used up and dried out

So as I sit here

Studying the same knots in the wood of this bar

I think about how to say good-bye

What answer I will give

The excuse I’ll make

Ah, forget it

I don’t think you’d care

And that’s why I love it here

No one judges, if you don’t care

When the tender comes by

Maybe I’ll get just one more

It is, after all, a long walk home

It’s cold outside, and I think I can hear rain

© Dicky J Loweman 2015