The bar was a dark dismal place,
So much so that it was almost lightless,
It was hard to see another’s face
Through that smoky near darkness.

The bartender was well past her prime,
Probably never told she was pretty at all,
Except by patrons at closing time
Trying to extend drinking’s last call.

Her voice was slightly harsh and rough
From years of smoking and yelling,
For there were times she had to be tough
To the drunks in their stupor rebelling.

On a slow night in the near empty bar,
When the sound was the machine that made ice,
Or the rumbling of a slow passing car
She might take the time to give advice.

Always starting with a disclaimer
That she didn’t always do things just right
But I’d never think to blame her
For her life had been quite a fight.

Boy friends and children that ran away
Leaving her alone times she couldn’t track,
The reason she didn’t know or wouldn’t say,
But she didn’t want any of them back.

She’d tell you what she might do
Forget them all they aren’t worth ..it,
If they don’t want to stay with you
Just go ahead and let them quit.

Finally the bar’s dark would be complete,
Her advice was way for her to cope,
As I walked toward home down the street,
I knew she was another without any hope.

What can be done for those in the darkness
When they don’t want to look to the light,
They are afraid of the burning brightness
And hide their souls from anyone’s sight.