The Bartender

Reads: 410  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 1

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A ballad style dramatic monologue

Submitted: December 08, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 08, 2010

A A A

A A A


The Bartender
 
 
Serving up the very drink
she ordered now some weeks ago,
“I’m sorry Emily, it’s just I think
the time has come to let it go.
 
We know we can’t continue this
you’re married, I work in a bar!”
She cries: “So what about this kiss”
I block, “your husband then, how far?
 
I mean how long, you never said,
are you apart, is he alone?”
She doesn’t say, but whispers instead
she longs for me, and no one’s home.
 
I tell her that’s enough and send
her out, an angry, unfaithful whore.
I understand worst traits of men
will only come when they get bored.
 
I feel a freedom at work now I
am left alone without her voice
to haunt the stool that stands nearby,
I’ve now regained the right of choice.
 
It’s quiet tonight, my mind remembers
all the girls who’ve gone and came,
one’s who warmed those cold Decembers
and others who never knew my name.
 
I don’t regret a single one,
or miss their voices on the phone,
but sometimes once the latest’s gone
I’m jealous that it’s me alone.
 
Emily see, she’s one of few,
who used me to relive their youth,
their freedom if you will, but knew
at home with partners laid their truth.
 
You see I never feel much guilt
when a girl walks in who has a man,
because on what is her love built
If me, a 7, can win her hand?
 
With all this thinking I barely saw
my regular enter, already drunk,
“you’re early Jack, it’s just gone 4.”
“A beer” and on the stool he slunks.
 
“Alright?” I feign some interest
as he cries into his lonely beer,
my eyes drawn to some brunette’s chest
(It’s happening again I fear)
 
Suddenly I feel a hand
pull me close, and now his breath,
drunk, I can’t understand
his words, and all I hear is death.
 
I pull another pint as he,
my regular, empties out his heart,
and then he make more sense, his story
Is clear, I ask for him to start
 
again, as I begin to shake,
“I’m sorry, you sure you’re ok?”
He says he’s all alone and to make
It through the night he needs to stay
 
and drink some more. My hands are cold,
As is my heart, to see a groom
whose wife went back on all she told
and dirtied sheets in their only room.
 
He reaches for his pocket and pulls
a sheet of paper stained with tears,
her love he said was made for fools,
and in her note lay all his fears.
 
I read aloud inside my head,
she says she’s sorry but can not live
with herself, and that she’s better dead
than alive, without any love to give.
 
She writes about some guy she met
who killed her first, before she took
It into her own hands, to forget
her pains and husband she overlooked.
 
Right then my world just falls apart
in front of my eyes, how can it be
her final words break both our hearts?
I hope you can forgive me
Love Emily
- x -
 
 
 


© Copyright 2019 jh430. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments