Empty

A row of empty glasses

along the bar,

you hand the bartender

the keys of your car.

He pours you a last

drink for the road,

you nod thanks in

an unspoken code.

Not for the first time

you are the last to leave,

you struggle with the door

and give it a heave.

Outside the street is quiet

and the moon is bright.

An empty house is all

that’s waiting for you,

so. there’s time

for another life review.

The voice is back to tell you

about the mess you are,

your failings as a man and father

are on your body like a scar.

Through gritted teeth

and furrowed brow

you answer back,

you already know.

Unable to work

like you once did,

left on your own

without a wife and kid.

They left after

they could take no more,

when you spent all the money

in the liquor store.

Now you tell yourself

you drink to forget.

then why do you search

for them on the internet?

They won’t be back

and you must face the fact,

the alcohol now

only serves to distract.