Soundtrack to the Soul


 
 A slow thrumming of thumb on strings;
 
 A guitar plays somewhere in the darkness.
 
 I take another swill of my drink,
 
 As the bar girl looks on with disfavour.
 
 I’m lowering the tone in my melancholy.
 
 Uncaring, I mop the sweat from my tired brow.
 
 Being here reminds me of her;
 
 The first time we met;
 
 The first time I loved,
 
 And the endless days of heartbreak since.
 
 Funny how many memories you find
 
 In the bottom of a bottle;
 
 In a bar you wish you could forget,
 
 Whilst the sound of the guitar strums on.
 
 
 
 
 
 

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