The pub is full of people---
All of them laughing,
Joyously reveling over their drink.
Each one has a dream,
Each drink, a new vision.
Everyone has a smile--
A pocket full of posies,
A hand full of dreams-come-true,
Except for the lone one in the corner,
His eyes shallow under the candle-light,
His face molded into a frown.
He wears only black,
For he is the one cursed
With emotions so deep--
He knows all about love,
All about happiness,
Yet, he's never actually seen
A smile in the mirror,
Or received a card on Valentine's Day.
He is not a freak, nor a loner
He is much worse off than that--
He is a poet...
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