He sat upon the bar stool
Talking to the bartender
About life in general
And Irish folk tunes he could render.
She had left him
On a night cold and black
And though he wasn't positive
He was sure she wasn't coming back.
So he sat there reminiscing
With a warm, half glass of beer
Wishing he was somewhere else
Instead of being here.
The bartender was half listening
He'd heard it before
They'd come in and out
Like the place had a revolving door.
The man took out his wallet
To buy himself another round
As he fumbled for the money
Several pictures fell to the ground.
He took the pictures
Looked at them for awhile
You could see upon his face
They're was a slight smile.
Memories that he had
Of time that passed him by
Some saddened him
To where he wanted to cry.
She wanted an eternity
She wanted a life
But what he wanted
Didn't include a wife.
He told her how he felt
On a cold dark day
And without even a goodbye
She turned and walked away.
So he his sits..alone
Without even a friend
Thinking about what was
But never will be again.
(c)2011 T.LaFountain