In An Old Part Of Town - The Black & The Tavern Poem by Paul Cornell

In an old part of town theres an ancient tavern where shadows crawl,

A man sits alone, leaning awkwardly back on a stool.

He takes a photo of his pint of black, his loyal and faithful support,

As he sips it slow, as he wonders if it takes from him or lessons are taught.

He crunches a salty dog and with twinge in his aging back tooth,

His mind flickers with memories of happiness from times in his youth,

The loss of an old friend a fresh wound grazed and sore on his mind,

He should smile remembering but he drinks to silence the time.

Depression creeps and rolls, slow and strong like a dark tide,

or a heavy black cloud fills the void where his heart did reside.

There's one thing besides darkness that can fill this deep cavern.

And it's found in an old part of town, in the taps of this tavern