Happy Hour Poem by Arthor Journer

Happy Hour



Went to this place that promised happy hour
But I found myself drowning in this whiskey sour
I was not gay I was not happy there was no smile on my face
All hope all cheer all faith had been erased
I looked around and all I saw was the echo of gloom
The atmosphere was pregnant with darkness and doom
Even the waitress had wrinkles from her permanent frown
The bright music could not rescue us from being down
Nobody had died there was no plethora of bad news
Our loves had not left us or any other source of blues
Still the weight of the clouds caused us all to cower
Here in this place to celebrate happy hour
Perhaps I got here too late the hour had ended
The alarm went off no more happiness to be resended
All the smiles wiped away ending the gleeful talks
All dismissed and forbidden by a tick of the clock
Tomorrow perhaps I will get here early and not miss
The celebrations the laughter all of the bliss
After a day like today I need to find a source of smiles
Discover a place a haven to rest safely for awhile
Find a spot where my thoughts can flower
Find a place to celebrate happy hour

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