You look a little young to be

Here, standing at the bar,

Drinking away your troubles,

Drowning your sorrows in your drink,

Chain-smoking a six pack of B grade cigars,

Smoke curling around you like

So many dandelion wishes,

Floating up, up, away,

Towards the kind of greatness

You’ll never achieve

By sitting here,

At this bar,

Drinking ‘til you drown.