, , , , , , , ,

She sat there, in the bar
Proud and all alone
She wore a flashy dress
Baring her skin and bone

She had her usual drink
Breathed into a phone
She lit a cigarette
Her silence screamed “forlorn”

She had a look of steel
But her skin was too worn
She donned a lasting sneer
All chances she had blown

She now lived like the dead
Love, she had outgrown
She felt all cold and dry
A heart she did not own

She looked for somebody
But her eyes never shone
So she sat there, in that bar
Frowning and alone

**Posted for One Shot Wednesday, Β hosted this week by Brian. Do check out the creative works by other writers/poets as well… **

***Image – courtesy Google search (with some editing done by me)***