Tuesday, December 22, 2009


Every night at the bar
He opens up and confesses his sins
In the daytime
His pain wants out
So he hurries back to the bar
And pours the whiskey in
He passes most of his time
By pretending to be someone he's not
Living through lies and drunken tales
The chemicals have begun to take him away
He looks deathly tired and ghostly pale
The bar has been his life for years
It helped him face all of his fears
Everthing comes his way by the ounce
His last drink will be the only one
That he or anyone else will ever count

Copyright ©2009 Christopher Lynn Lane

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