Empty bottles cluttered around
The jukebox and laughter both clashing sound
The smell of spilled whiskey and beer
On one womans cheek a visible tear
The grime of decades built up on the bar
Barmaid next to me talks but it sounds like shes far
I love these surroundings the sight, sound and taste
This world of lost souls where sadness is misplaced
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem