From a Bar Stool
Sometimes, you want to vanish to a corner of the bar while the world goes mad.
From a Bar stool
All the loudmouths
speak their minds.
Talking smack,
talking bull!
A few drinks
is all it takes
to let them rip
about anything, everything.
I hear them
I see them
from my bar stool
in the corner.
Where I nurse a cold brew
and pretend to stare
at the polished finish
of the bar.
I want to drown them out.
I want to forget them, too.
But even from this bar stool
in the corner,
I can't escape their voices
I can't escape their presence,
even after I sip
the last drop of a cold brew.
About the Creator
Dean Traylor
* Masters in special education and degree in journalism.
*Seasoned writer for the last 30+ years (Newspapers, Magazines, Internet sites)
* Former writer at Hubpages, Helium, and Wikinut.
* Current: Medium (https://medium.com/@ds_traylor)
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