Dimly lit lights
Expose the despair
        from within
Of men sitting and drinking
At  a personal  alter
        made of wood
Stained by use and lust
         mixed in pain
Still they sit
Women with dilemmas
          linger close by
Waiting to be heard
As all are interrupted
         by cell phones
Still they sit
Some with pockets
That contain items
          to add to their misery
In forms of vegetation
          to burn
Pills to swallow
Dust to snort or injected
All  to be digested
In hopes to change the decor
Still they sit and drink
          with no happy endings
Leaving them torn apart
Thrashed
Pulled like pork
Until all expectations
        are lost
Waiting for the answer
         to their fate
Blaming others
         never themselves
In the interim
Still not received
They sit and drink
          to tolerate their own self-indulgence
Again……