A row of lonely strangers
At a bar silently exist
As much a stranger to themselves
As the strangers with whom they sit.
Unable to strike a conversation
Though that’s all each really wants to do
Not too skilled in human relation
Struggle for words to speak, so rarely do.
When spoken the words seem meaningless
When spoken the words are few.
All feels broken this bar has an eeriness
Of lost souls, who believe they’ve nothing better to do.
© Daniel Breslin