On the shelf I see them streaming in,
Drinking beer and downing Jin.
The band plays in the corner,
With drunken men and women jumping around them with breaths all sour.
He walks up the stairs past a sign that says "Private Party",
And you can tell from his eyes, that he knows this place isn't jolly.
The big bulky bouncer chains up the stairs,
As he gives his clients, and guests hard cold stares.
It's now past ten, and the atmosphere has changed,
A couple kisses passionately, with bodies intertwined, and tongues interlocked.
He comes down the stairs, to listen to the band play "Take me OUT",
And goes up again almost immediately after looking at the hollow sight about.
He comes down again with a bag this time, looking prepared to exit the bar,
Outside a group of people are arguing over whose most blah.
He walks quickly away, head downcast,
Only to see another couple fighting over who was creating the most fuss.
He wonders to himself, why do people still go to such places,
Do they actually find comfort and solace in such unfriendly faces?
That was my attempt at a poem. There's so much I want to say, but no one will read it on a blog that long. If you're a lit student, or someone who picks up fast, maybe you'll get the emotions, and the ideas that I'm trying to bring across.
