That Ole Fool Sitting On That Bar Stool

who's that ole fool sitting on this bar stool stareing back at me from the mirror on the wall behind the bar just whom do I see where has all my living taken me on this long journey what will I have left behind to mark my life and human stfife wrinkles are so many hair he doesn't have any a tooth or two is missing he's probably not going to get a lot of kissing with a sad down turned smile upon his face wondering if he is still apart of the human race bartender another double shot of Jack with water back Jack you see he's been an ole friend of mine for a very long time the only friend I know who understands my sorrow sitting on this bar stool as one isn't any fun no more like so many times before just hoping that a lady may sit down by me a little conversation would make me happy but to my dismay its the end of another day closing time just past two I'll except my reality and go home alone again and restart this life tomorrow about a quarter past ten this is just a poem about humanity not any reflection of me or who I am Dennis Davis winter of 1998