The Moon and the Stars        

This is a pub

Where they drink and drink

And then they drink some more

And then they eat

And then they drink

And drink and drink.


One can be sure

They do not think.

Or so it seems

To one who dreams

Only a little way



Perhaps he is wrong.

Over the thirsty years

They may blink

Back tears.

Could their be fears

And starving hearts?



In that popular song,

Those popular arts,

May be wide-spread.

It is possible,

Since life is brief,

That they may hope for love

After they are dead.



These glasses

Which reflect

The light

It is hard to select,

As the moment passes,

The appropriate shadows

Which go with grief.


But some

May be happy,


In the middle of the room

And glad

To be out of the dark night.


It is difficult to tell

About other people.