The Next Whisky Bar
I can smell cheap wine.
On the counter, they all whine.
As I swallow gulps of which is divine.
Should I appreciate this life of mine?
Or may I split my tea? would it be fine?
"Hi, I'd like to declare it, I got pain in my spine. Should I wait in line ?"
Bittered by me, they laughed.
Cuddled their cups and quaffed.
They tried to hide it, but they all suffered.
His eyes growing old, he approached.
His face wearing a dim smile, he snivelled,
"young and foolish, misguided and bedazzled.
I can relate, misfortune controlled."
Pleasantly, he sucked one more puff.
Passionately did he cough.
Then, rised and waved at his staff,
gently delivered a creepy laugh.
"Look kid, life is a whore, it's rough.
Guess what, you are integral and enough.
Arise, dare honey, dare and slough."
About this poem
This poem is inspired by an evening in the bar. When gloomy senses trapped me, there were only very few ways to hang on to life: drink, observe, and bleed worrs.
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Written on September 10, 2022
Submitted by Abdellatifr199 on October 29, 2022
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 48 sec read
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Quick analysis:
Scheme | AAAAAA BBXXBBX CXDDCCC |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic pentameter |
Characters | 794 |
Words | 162 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 6, 7, 7 |
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"The Next Whisky Bar" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 10 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/143746/the-next-whisky-bar>.
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