The Purgatory Bar

A man tries to drink away his sorrow for the loss of a lover.
Pull up a stool and spill me your tale,
As if I didn't already know,
I've been watching you for some time now,
Saw the tears you try hard not to show.

Let me pour you a drink to show that I'm sincere,
Take your time, I can wait till you're ready,
And wait I will, for as long as it takes,
For the story you're desperate to tell me.

You've been drinking here now for God knows how long,
Sitting alone in the shadows,
You stare at the floor in a world of your own,
Oblivion, drowning your sorrows.

Share with me the pain of whatever has gone wrong,
And you'll find my ear sympathetic,
You see, I've heard it before, it comes with the job,
And it never gets melodramatic.

Ah, I remember now what the newspaper said,
And I remember the mangled picture,
'A hundred and ten around a hairpin bend',
Served as a headline lecture.

And you crawled from the wreckage like a refugee,
Seeking shelter from his boney hand,
And you could only look on as she called out your name...
A phantom voice to the damned.

Now your mind plays back like a reel of silent film,
A continuous loop of regret,
That beats on your heart like a sledgehammer,
The pain not so easy to forget.

If only you could talk to her that one more time,
To offer an apology as owed,
Ah, but sir, how I do so understand,
Like I said, I have heard it all before.

My deepest sympathies, I offer to your plight,
For I know the pain of a broken heart,
So talk to her tonight as she dreams, if you will,
For in dreams you need never be apart.

There's a man in the corner, he's been waiting for you,
To speak your final words into her heart.
Then take his boney hand and follow in his wake,
Let him lead you from the Purgatory Bar.
Published: 2/28/2014
Bouquets and Brickbats