The
Barfolk
Sitting
alone and bored.
Watching
the people drink.
The
barfolk in a frenzy,
Not
a second to think.
Pouring
this, pouring that.
Drink
out of hand & money in.
Taking
orders for food, "Was,
That
a burger with onion rings?"
But,
as the people slowly leave,
And
the bar empties out,
All
that is left - dregs of beer,
Wine,
spirits and stout.
Without
the hustle and bustle,
Of
the regulars and blow ins.
The
barfolk wander aimlessly around,
Waiting
for the next lot to flow in.
And
when they come,
Which
surely they will,
The
barfolk will liven up,
And
readily fill the till.
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