The Tavern

They asked me why I came to:
their tavern and their chair,
And I told them I was empty
and needed comfort there.
Then they asked me why,
I questioned them,
refused to drink their ales.
And I told them I was looking for
themselves, not fairytales.
Then they asked me why I bothered them,
a stranger in their midst,
And I begged them not to listen to,
the mugs held in their fists.

But, they raised their glasses higher,
and drunk the drunkards brew,
Till they'd drowned their hurts and loneliness
just as I had wanted too!
And I could see their stupor's were
more comforting than I.
More trusting, more believable,
than my words which left them dry.
So, they pushed away from me
to liquors comfort fell,
And I was lost and gapping o'er
both their Heaven and their Hell.

May 9, 1971

By 

Lady LaMythica

By Lady LaMythica, Linda A. Copp © All rights reserved World Wide
including but not limited to 1972-2015