Same old, same old on a Saturday night
A bottle of Heineken in his hand
Sat on the same bar stool, in the dim light
Behind him the sounds of a three-piece band
Picture repeated almost everyday
Except Sunday, he visits his mother
All the time hoping early get-away
There’s an Irish bar in the street corner
It’s a sad lonely life, without a friend
An existence he never envisioned
As a young man, he followed every trend
Till betrayal left him cold, imprisoned
A pretty girl he dated in high school
Loved her deeply, adored her completely
But she laughed at him; he felt like a fool
So he hides! His world dreary and chilly
All his friends, he lost them over the years
For they saw just how toxic he’s become
Soon all that’s left, his mother and his fears
And memories that haunt him, cold and numb
Every night, alone in dimly lit bars
Talking and mumbling to bottles of beers
The poor fellow perhaps needs a grimoire
Maybe an elder wand to bring him cheer
But one night he sighs, tired of holding on
To bitterness wrapped tight around his heart
He whispers softly, “It’s time to be done”
Forgiving her, at last, he can depart!
A weight lifts; he feels lighter than before
And peace begins where anger once had thrived
He steps outside, seeking something worth more—
The life he’ll build, at last, renewed, revived!
Postscript
He met her at the diner down the street
She liked black coffee, always read the news
They’d talk for hours in that corner seat
Two souls once bruised, now walking in new shoes
She didn’t fix him—just was there each day
A steady hand when old regrets would burn
With her, he found a simpler, kinder way
And bit by bit, he felt the world return
05-07-2025
Vic Evora