The Drinker Next To Me

I sit in a restaurant,
And on both sides
Are drinkers next to me.

On the right,
A face not so bright,
He drinks liquor
To get to numbness quicker,
The drinker next to me.

With shoulders bent,
His glance down sent,
He drinks next to me
But doesn't want me to see
The drinker next to me.

The ones on my left
With voice's heft
Talk to friends many;
They've joys aplenty,
The drinkers next to me.

They celebrate
Their many good fates.
They drink beer;
Their voices ring clear,
The drinkers next to me.

The one across
Doesn't carry a heavy cross.
Instead he tickles spoons
As his girl swoons,
The drinker across from me.

In front of his face,
Her face and two wines well placed.
Two trails from cigarettes;
Each love hoping to get,
The drinkers across from me.

For many reasons,
It's always the season
To stop the pain
Or enhance happiness plain.
Drinkers there will always be.