The Irish Bar

She was sitting,

As everyone held their glasses

Filled with nothing but straws and left over lemon and ice,

She was sitting,

Staring and looking, by turn,

At the chaos around

She drowned in the noise of their chatter,

Hearing some, and listening to some,

Of what they spoke

She drowned in the fading tunes

Of the Guns And Roses

She was there, but somewhere else altogether

Not thinking much,

but thoughts hovered about her head

Why was she quiet?

That thought never occurred

Maybe, she wanted to listen for a change

Maybe, she wanted to do what she did most- Observe

The pool of dim light adding to the gloom

The random cheers from nearby tables,

Seemed to have no effect on her

Though she sat in poised sophistication,

On high bar-stools; She cheaply bit her nails

With one elbow resting gently on the cluttered table

Whilst her face bore no expression,

Her thoughts were seeking

A way of letting themselves out

Whilst her actions were

In a slow movie-like motion,

Her thoughts ran wild

It was her first time there,

Probably even her last

As her soul weakened

But she could say nothing,

As thoughts brimmed her heart,

That girl, in the Irish Bar.