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
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