BAM ( / Johnston, Rhode Island)

The Brass Rail

Inside this brass rail lonely faces can be found,
With each sip, deeper sorrow is drowned,
Watch the action hear no sound,
Surrounded in a friendless surrender to the night
Cold is the soul drifting without a destiny
Feel the hurt of another forsaken heart left empty
As lips mumble words unconsciously
Visions becomes unaware of deceiving sight
As I observe people who step through these doors of corruption
At the next table they slowly lose control of reflection
While others wash down love mistaken for desperation
Here is to the smile acquired to delude
Leaving behind a doubtful stain
It is here we share the feeling of no pain
Spending a moment in time to elude
As a hidden haze of tears lingers in the atmosphere,
Through these eyes I see the darkness of despair
Pulling up another chair...

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