A Ballad for a Stranger

Cigar Man © 2017 annie fahy

I went to the bar
The bar turned red
With blood from a man
Who fell on his head.

He gets that way
The Barkeep stated
He’ll get back up
And so we waited.

His skin went pale
His bones turned to wood
He never paid
And that’s no good.

Inside his coat
We looked for gold
Broke and broken
too dead to scold.

His drink on the counter
He only once tasted
I finished it quickly
So it wouldn’t be wasted.

I don’t know his story
Or his good name
But his brand's Johnny Walker
And mine is the same.

Alone in the box
His purpose expended
And I hold the story
Of how his life ended.

©2017 annie fahy

See my book of poetry on Amazon called The Glass Train…

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