Bars and cheap beer

I almost forgot what this was like,

the tables and the chairs

that’ve seen so many faces

are now seeing my own.

This is where

I always used to be,

places like this that know my kind

and never spare the kindness

through open doors

that lead in more often than out.

These are the rooms

where taps pour until empty,

where eyes stare until dry

and lips part only

for the words most meant.

If I could leave here tonight

I would,

but habits like these

are the hardest to break

and in a room built

on the kindness of strangers

all we keep are the whispers,

those words too hard to see,

but always the last

to let us forget.

Advertisements

About Sean O'Gorman

Spoken Word poet from Ottawa. View all posts by Sean O'Gorman

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: