Monday, October 26, 2009

Misfit in the Bar

He sits apart from the rest of the crowd
Sitting alone, half drunk Budweiser in his hand
Unnoticed, a quiet shadow with a pleasant face
Seemingly unaware of the mingling all around him.

As I work, I glance at him from time to time
Sad to see him sitting all alone in this social bar
Vacant eyes staring into a chasm of space beyond
He takes another sip of his beer and heaves a sigh

And I wonder about his situation. He could be
A pipeliner, running from life but running blind
Or maybe a war veteran, building walls of silence
To stifle the gunshots and screams of agony he remembers.

Of course it could be he lived a life not so different
Just a quiet type who'd rather be alone in peace.
His eyes finally meet mine, briefly, as he raises his glass
He nods, half smiles, and slips back into his reverie.