No Rescue From Tomorrow

I watch as she lifts her glass to her lips, closing her eyes,

As she tastes the sublime icy cold liquor that races down her throat,

She opens her eyes and feels my gaze upon her beauty,

Turning her head, giving me a sad nod, her eyes terribly remote.

***

She turns back to the bar, to saviour her drink,

Lost in her brokenness, her sad thoughts,

I guarantee she’s here to escape her man and his treatment,

His cruelty is what would have seen this melancholy wrought.

***

I feel her sorrow, her pain, from across the room,

Deciding to approach her and offer her some solace,

She shakes her head at me as I take the stool by her side,

I ignore this head shake and take my place.

***

“I’m not another guy trying to pick you up,”

I explain as I sit,

“I can see your pain and let me guess, it’s caused by a man,”

“You’d guess right,” she spit.

***

“I saw you sitting staring at your drink, waiting for your ice to melt,”

I say, “And please let me tell you, you don’t need that guy,”

I silently wait to see how she’d react to that,

But instead she breathes deep and lets out an agonising sigh.

***

She looks me in the eye, smiling a little wider,

And to my surprise she introduces herself to me,

Telling me that I got that right,

She’s planning on setting him free.

***

As the night wears on, the drinks too many to count,

Her smile grows wider, her words happier, he’s been forgotten,

However, in the back of her eyes I can still see the sorrow,

But for these few hours I helped her not to feel so rotten.

***

We both know it’s a temporary respite,

She’ll feel the heartbreak fully tomorrow,

And she’ll be alone, no guy sitting on the other side of the room,

Worried about her mood, her pain and her sorrow.

This poem was inspired by a Keith Urban song titled ‘Blue Ain’t Your Colour’

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Originally posted on Medium