I was sitting in prison not long ago proctoring an exam and I had some free time on my hands, because cell phones and internet are prohibited and you actually have to pay attention to your surroundings. I’d had a few lines of a poem running around in my head, but hadn’t had time to sit and put them on paper.
As I waited over the next three hours, these were the words that came out. Unfortunately, there’s too much reality to this poem. I wrote it from the perspective of the bartender. If you prefer to download the poem, you can do so below.
I pray it opens the eyes and hearts of others.
I’m Just the Bartender
You’ll come in tonight and order your usual.
No need to ask, I’ll mix it up for you now.
The first sip soothes your tired soul after a long day’s work.
Now the weekend is here and the fun begins.
I notice your yes seem sad as I hand back your change.
But what am I to say? I’m just the bartender.
You’ve kept the jukebox busy tonight, picking song after song.
Liquid courage gave you strength to dance with strangers again.
Someone in the lunch crowd today mentioned you were struggling.
It was probably just small town gossip.
I see you grab your purse to head out for another one night stand.
I hate to see you do that to yourself again.
But what do I know? I’m just the bartender.
I thought I heard you whisper something crazy to your girl.
But who knows what you can really hear in this crazy place.
I notice she isn’t drinking; probably so she can drive you home.
Is that a bruise on her arm? No, probably just a shadow.
She doesn’t seem too talkative, especially when you’re around.
When I saw that evil smirk come across your face, I thought about telling her she could stay at my place tonight.
But I guess what happens between you two is none of my business.
I’m just the bartender.
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You’re acting awful friendly to the lady at the end.
I’m guessing you two have never met before.
Sure, I’ll pour her the usual, but isn’t that what your wife usually gets?
She smiles back at your charming wink.
I can only guess what will happen next.
Yep, I was right, now you’re paying your tab.
I shake my head as you two leave for who knows where.
I’ll pretend I know nothing when she calls to see why you have come home.
What else can I do? I’m just the bartender.
You’ve been here for hours drinking the day away.
Beer after beer comes with some shots in between.
I just gave last call, now you’ve gotta go home.
But you’re bound and determined the party isn’t done.
I guess you’re not driving since you buddy took the keys.
The best thing you could do is stop while you’re ahead.
But what do I know? I’m just the bartender.
The morning news said she died driving him home from the bar.
They said you hit her head on going 90 mph.
I sip my lukewarm coffee as the anchor spreads the news.
Then I see three faces, the ones I served drinks to.
What if I had offered her a safe place to stay?
What if I had made certain someone took your keys away?
She had dreams and kids and eyes that made you smile.
You were young, had dreams yourself, and only drank once in a while.
The bar opens in an hour, I’ve gotta shake off the news.
After all, I’m just the bartender.
What was I to do?
Written 5/14/19
