I sat in the corner booth and watched the man walk slowly in
He sat at the bar with a small insincere grin.
He ordered a drink and he chugged it down, looked around, and started to frown.
It looked like he was thinking so much his head would explode.
Like the thoughts in his head weighed a heavy load.
All of a sudden a tear streamed down his face, his fists were clenched, and his frown turned to hate.
It wasnt hate toward anyone that he knew
It was a hatred for his own deeds that were true
He asked for his check, his face was a wreck, and out the door he went.
As for what he drank, i dont remember
But his thoughts rang out loud
As he walked into the cold december
The changes he would make based on those feelings would make anyone proud.
