Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
It's always when the magic hits that blissful ****** up buzz I'm alone in the bar putting up the stools up closing down as usal. I always have one behind the bar light a cigar just soak in the silence . It's then when it all comes back in a flood to me . The faces of those passsed my brothers. I pour a shot of borbon for them each. Always making mine a double . I imagine there laughs the bad jokes and great conversations we no longer share . William always playing the jukebox that trademark laugh that could light a room. Bob Warren cracking people up hitting on the women he was a one man sideshow and a old vet. Bone . My closest brother the guy who ****** everyone off and always made me laugh . We'd talk for hours kick back the drinks and torment everyone around us. Cause if we didnt **** with you. We truly didnt give a **** about you. I had burried them all as alone now i stand . The smoke hung in the air as i saw them all and for a moment i wasnt alone. It always hit hardest on nights like these . The women will all leave you . Love is a fire that burns beyond are control. But the memories are the tressure bury them deep only to dig them up when you are alone . I drank each shot as one by one they vanished from sight. I do not believe I can bury another . I guess in all truth I hope the next is me.. I closed the door locked it behind me the air outside was frozen. My breath shown on the walk home. I was alone . Sometimes the page is far more simple than reallity of this existence. I'm glad to have shared one last round with friends . We can write the ending. But life always seems to see it a different way. Cheers Gonz
0
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 2:28 PM UTC
At Closing Time
It's always when the magic hits that blissful ****** up buzz I'm alone in the bar putting up the stools up closing down as usal. I always have one behind the bar light a cigar just soak in the silence . It's then when it all comes back in a flood to me . The faces of those passsed my brothers. I pour a shot of borbon for them each. Always making mine a double . I imagine there laughs the bad jokes and great conversations we no longer share . William always playing the jukebox that trademark laugh that could light a room. Bob Warren cracking people up hitting on the women he was a one man sideshow and a old vet. Bone . My closest brother the guy who ****** everyone off and always made me laugh . We'd talk for hours kick back the drinks and torment everyone around us. Cause if we didnt **** with you. We truly didnt give a **** about you. I had burried them all as alone now i stand . The smoke hung in the air as i saw them all and for a moment i wasnt alone. It always hit hardest on nights like these . The women will all leave you . Love is a fire that burns beyond are control. But the memories are the tressure bury them deep only to dig them up when you are alone . I drank each shot as one by one they vanished from sight. I do not believe I can bury another . I guess in all truth I hope the next is me.. I closed the door locked it behind me the air outside was frozen. My breath shown on the walk home. I was alone . Sometimes the page is far more simple than reallity of this existence. I'm glad to have shared one last round with friends . We can write the ending. But life always seems to see it a different way. Cheers Gonz
john-patrick-robbins-aka-gonzo
Written by
Jan 19, 2017
Jan 19, 2017 at 2:28 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem