In front of the mirrors stood several bottles of a mans cure for loneliness at high percentages of volume.
Three men sat at the bar
one with worn tattoos of a man who would have fought in his younger years, nowadays reputation and confrontation were a mere distant dream.
Another in a striped shirt with a plain hair cut. Two drinks he had to reflect his stressful work and difficult family life.
The other wearing a gray beanie and a lumber jack shirt, his posture was juxtaposed to the other two, still he managed to balance the chip on his shoulder.
The barmaid was away in a back room somewhere on a personal call on the pubs telephone. She was a loud mouth, swearwords were commonplace in her vocabulary and what to her was a normal conversation could cause avalanches in mountains of snow.
The tension between the men was tough and couldn’t be chipped with angle grinders or chainsaws.
They all smiled and adjusted their body language to be more friendly as the barmaid walked back into the bar.
“HI boys” she said with a smile on her face. They all nodded and the tattooed man asked for another beer while the other two smirked.
The thing is this, I can’t go on no more
Without a kiss of one I can adore
Or hugs at night to ease away my stress
The love I need to make me feel so blessed
I’ll bring no tricks- I’d live on for her form
Her grip into my arms I love, oh yes
I love the way she looks in her undress
I’ll linger where she breathes and love her warmth
I’ll wake as she will wake as if we’re born
Together from the start and share our thoughts
As morning rises we will pass the test
Of love and hate, adhered to our requests
And conquer hate and conjure love to keep
And blur the lines of who we are to be
I care to not indulge in love or heart
The fairness lost in stories, how they bore
Dissolved my sight of how one should adore
Despair is solid muse to form my art
I’m scared I guess, to leave my home or shore
The waves may crash and take me to depart
The winds may howl and shake my soul apart
And leave all but my body to the storm
I’m blessed inside, alone; for words to form
I’m me I have my self to keep me warm
Under the duvet dreams may end and start
And laugh I may of things to bring a spark
And less I care to hold as age has come
A mess to bare alone, my kingdom spun