Realization At A Bar Poem by John Anderson

I parked my old car next to a dumpster.

The music was escaping into the sultry night air, drawing me to enter through a thick wooden door.

The loudness permeated my insides, reminding me I still had them.
Like I was entering another reality.
I walked proudly to the bar confident that I was noticed,
and sat on a bar stool that felt like a pedestal.
As if everyone saw me order a beer.
Successful, as I let my change sit on the counter.

I turned my attention to the dance floor.
Women and hapless men frolicking under the dim light's disguise.
As if they knew each other.
Feigning ecstasy, happiness.

I looked for a special woman.
Someone who held the key.
To make me feel smart and strong,
like the cash next to my drink.

And as I sat I watched.
People begging to be loved.
Bartering their lives to feel appreciated.
They were as bad as me.

I picked up my change and left.
Leaving the beer and bar stool, which were quickly removed and reoccupied.
In the contrast of the quiet lot, I felt contentment as I started my car and pulled away.