Their Own World

They welcome you,
whenever they see you.
All of them act
as though you’re missed.

The bar you frequented,
always had people in it
that all acted as though
they were your best friend.

I always hung out
and made good friends
with a handful of them.
I would even hangout with them
at their houses sometimes.

This happened when I had my own
I would spend my time at the bar
during the day,
and work at night.

Over time I would know
many people,
business men, single moms, drunks,
business owners and people barely
making it through life.
Only a handful of them
I would have considered good friends.

When business was bad
I decided to get a job.
My working hours were early,
from 7am to 4pm,
so I decided to stay away from the bar
for the first few weeks.
I wanted to adjust to the new schedule.

During those couple of weeks,
I noticed that nobody called me.
I would check the phone
but nobody called
to see how I was,
or if I was dead.

I tried to call a few of them,
but would always
get voice mail
and they would never call back.
After a while,
I gave up,
and quit leaving messages.
When a couple of months went by,
I quit trying altogether.

It has been almost two years
since I started this job.
I have been back to the bar
a handful of times since,
and everyone calls me by my name
and nobody sits with me,
or asks me how I am.

They all act as though
I deserted them.
I felt bad going in there
the first few times.
It felt like I was trespassing
on holy ground.

I finally realized
it is a different world
once you enter through the door.
A world where the drunk
can get a drink,
the single mom
can get away from her kids
for a moment.
It is a place where
business owners go
to conduct business,
where business men go
to hang with co-workers,
and where people
barely making it through life,
hide in the shadows
of the place.

I now know
that I don’t need their
world anymore.
I have been alone at times
since I left two years ago,
but I know now
that I was more alone
being with them all.

©Copyright 2013 by Kurt Rees.
All rights reserved


52 thoughts on “Their Own World

  1. I cheerlead you to your most crisp writing. Am not sure “enter through” works… either the simple but effective “go through” or just “enter” or even “cross”..? Please delete this comment. I mean only the best, my friend. Diana PS, if you like it fine as is, of course ignore me!

    I finally realized
    it is a different world
    once you enter through the door.

  2. you know, there is something about this poem that keeps bringing me back to it…the last time i was here, it was to thank you for following my blog, but then i saw this one, read it and left, almost zombie-like. something about it stays on. maybe the melancholy of loneliness despite the ‘group’ that claims you are a part of. warm regards, D

  3. Thanks for taking the time to read my blog. I guess it pays to categorize! I really enjoyed this poem: I’ve worked and drank in a lot of bars and this rings true! I’ll keep reading em if you keep writing em

  4. I stopped by to thank you for reading my work. I stayed to read yours. I think we have some things in common and your work awakened some memories that will now become poems. Thanks for your time and sharing. By the way I waited quite a whe and your ” like” button never loaded.


  5. Ah, what a post mate. Sometimes we think we have friends when in fact with have acquaintances. People who say hello or would chat with you for a season, but in reality when push comes to shove, they wouldn’t spit on you if you was on fire.

    What you said in your post is a very sad but real fact. Now, what will you do? Still go to the bar? Still leave voice messages? Still force yourself to strike up a conversation? Or simply move on…………. Very thought provoking post.

  6. this is so true. my father lived in bars – practically died in one, too. it was amazing how these ‘bar’ people would say to me how much they love him and adore him…. yet when he was dying and still continued to go to the bar – they still served him and no one ever thought about the fact that they were killing him – well, he was killing himself, but they never tried to get him to stop. When he died, no one came around. Yes, these were the people who ‘loved’ him.

    • Thanks for the comment. It is sad, and I know there are others that have gone/are going through the same thing.

  7. Beautifully written. Not sure if you are a reader of memoir, but this reminded me of one of the books I’ve read that has stayed with me forever. It is called “The Tender Bar.” I forget the author, but you may like the memoir.

  8. I think when people say deep they mean sincere or thoughtful. I don’t really know what deep means. It kinda makes it sounds harder than it deserves credit for, and it deserves plenty of credit already. Sincerity and thought work. You don’t need to be a scholar to be a decent human being, which he obviously is, and right is right even if you don’t get credit for it, a waste of life is a waste of life even when it’s not noticed.

    • I have wondered that as well. If you knew me you wouldn’t think of me as being too deep! lol Thanks for swinging by!

    • I have two written. One is going to the editor here in about a month and the other one is going right after that. I have about ten others started, but I think instead of doing fiction on the next one I may write a story about personal experiences. Thanks for the compliment and for stopping by.

      • Well good luck. That is awesome!!!!! I have only written one but I have yet to edit it. (The ten others started sounds about right in my world….typical writers lol)…..Finish them. Post when you get published. I will buy a copy.

    • I know, it sucks, but at least I wised up. I just feel sorry for others that go through it and they don’t see it. Thanks for coming by!

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