In a corner of a bar

I shelter from the outside rain,

near a roaring fire I sit,

listening to my inner pain

Before time changed my face,

from fair to storm weathered soul,

old friends came and sat with me,

their faces in the fire I know

A good friend I once knew

was murdered in Alabama one night,

ran with a wild bunch,

with their hate, they took his light

I hear armchair experts debating

how to fix the world today,

each generation sounds the same,

no matter what anyone will say

And her, I loved above all

in my past an old memory,

I write in my daily journal,

of a Love, who inspired me

Now as the crowd gathers

in an area away from the fire,

my mind travels the corridors of time,

and Love weaves its own desire