
When I turned that key, the night was finally over
It wasn’t easy, they threw a few fists
Mad that the ale had dried up
Now, in the calm of being left alone
I would start with the ashes
dumping out another one of those “greatest nights ever”
As morning slowly took her place
I sat for once on a spinning stool
listening to the buzz of electricity like it was a farewell song
Just me and the ends of unfinished cigarettes
some drowned in half empty glasses
recounting stories of bravery, betrayal, and most times regret
Nights were once my domain
I was like a wrangler of saucy drunks
and disloyal eyes all bidding for my complete attention
Back then my stories were therapy
Music, a tool of enticement
friendly faces better than a tip
Love this little tale Ash. Well done.
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Thanks, Drew. Appreciate that. I was surpirsed when I seen your comment, haven’t chatted in a while and realized that I have been surpassing your posts due to the the reader system WordPress has in place…not a fan. Hope you’re well friend.
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You just made me realize that those who tend the bar could probably be really good at writing (telling stories). I wonder how many of them share their tales on a blog or in a book…
But back to your piece – so sad and lonely. Just goes to show that a crowd does not prevent you from feeling that way.
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That was a good chapter in my life. I miss the stories. And you interpreted that on point. Thanks.
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This is one of my favorite poems by you. Words fail me. But it means a lot, and I’ll keep this one in my mind.
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Really? Well, that made my day. Thanks my friend and I’m happy it hit you that way. Appreciate you’re awesome comment bud.
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