I don't quite fit into
the scene today.
(would I have ever?)
I'd rather be at home.
A placid sigh,
this is the life. Content.
And when I'm dragged to the club
by some well-meaning friends,
I sit and I brood
as the mini-skirt girls all hang onto guys
who know how to have a good time.
So I lean on the bar
and I order a beer
as I ruminate:
this night will never end.
Drunk sex is the only sex for jaded losers
I like this, having spent many nights from time to time throughout the years looking for something in a bar room that can't be found, very
often wondering what am I doing here, lonelier it that setting than I would be at home alone. I too have been dragged at times, so as not to seem anti-social into this plastic world of phony exchanges that
only work if you are hammered. Don't get me wrong, I think the neighborhood tavern has in the past and still does serve a purpose
in uniting the community on some level....your poem, however is not
describing that scenario.....I like the honesty in this one.......
often wondering what am I doing here, lonelier it that setting than I would be at home alone. I too have been dragged at times, so as not to seem anti-social into this plastic world of phony exchanges that
only work if you are hammered. Don't get me wrong, I think the neighborhood tavern has in the past and still does serve a purpose
in uniting the community on some level....your poem, however is not
describing that scenario.....I like the honesty in this one.......
If you do not change your direction
you may end up where you are heading
you may end up where you are heading
- Axanderdeath
- Posts: 954
- Joined: December 20th, 2004, 9:24 pm
- Location: montreal or somewhere in canada or the world
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