B...b...bars

A poems about bars

Ah, you invite many.

The sounds escaping you bed for them.

Wooded thrones

             waiting for innocent souls

          that you soon devour

       into wicked darkness

    ‘till smelling coffee and sun

 awaken them.

You touch their lips,

              enter their head

                 corrupt their minds.

‘Till enough is enough,

     and their sanity of sanctuary

   beckons them back.