It's been so long,
After too many nights of endless discontent.

Cigarettes laying crushed and broken
In lonely, green ashtrays next to
Half-empty liquor bottles playing back the icy stare
Oozing from tear swollen eyes.

Girls came and left,
Like clothes on the dressing room floor.

I waited for familiar, creeping shadows
To rise and fall across the faded wife-beater
And equally worn boxers on the bed.
They always showed.

Next to the soles,
Tired from walking the floor of the bar,
You could always count on the dark.

Then it snowed and
I started to cry.
You cried,
And I found love for the first time.

Simple, uncomplicated and genuine.
Friday night would never be the same.

© A.J. Evola

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