Alone

He sits alone,

Sipping his tea and staring passed the rims of his specs,

She let him go,

Put him out like her cigarettes,

He walks alone,

With a whiskey bottle between his sunken lips,

She put him down,

He drains the bottle; each and every sip,

He cries alone,

With tears pouring from his face and into his mouth,

She killed his hope,

And for years he blamed himself,

He died alone,

With no one to remember his name,

She forgot him,

He was not the one to blame,

She saw his name,

In a screwed up newspaper that blew in the sky,

She remembered his name,

And sang a whiskey lullaby,