Too Soon

This must be that road to hell,
Newly paved by friends with
Good intentions, who have
Brought me here into some
Dim-lit, noisy bar. The tables
Taken long ago, they have me
Standing, almost cheek to cheek,
With hipsters swaying to the
Artless pounding of a band,
Which isn't sounding good to me.
They told me I should come
With them. I've been too long
In my apartment, grieving
For the one who's gone. It's
Time for me to forge ahead
By coming to this bar with
Them, to what? To wince
At wretched music? Sneer
At posing college students?
Don't they know they've
Come too soon? I haven't
Finished being sad, and,
Now, I'm not too pleased
With them. I wish the one
Who's gone was here. I wish
These drinks would get me
Drunk. I think that, in a
Week or so, that bookworm
There, with horn-rimmed
Glasses, might get me to
Change my tune, to raise
My head and caper down
This road, so freshly paved.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 64 times
Written on 2015-11-12 at 01:12

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