the barroom

I knew

the barroom

long before I got there

the taunts whispers

from ne’er do wells

who would wish you

ne’er do well too

in case that would

show them in a true light

the sneers

pulling down of hopes

wishes dreams

to keep you on a par

the falsity of smiles

claps on backs

two faces to the fore

veneer encouragement

glad handing back slapping

more in the hope

of brief entertainment

than care

for these were the people

who raised me

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