Look into the eye of one of the many <br />Retired or redundant regulars; <br />you will be told you do not belong here. <br />A room of red bloated faces look <br />with disdain into their never empty glasses. <br />Old lessons of mistaken national pride <br />are not forgotten depsite the road to oblivion. <br /> <br />All consuming clouds of smoke <br />entwined with heavy stares <br />make it hard to breath, <br />or believe that within the womb of culture <br />dead beliefs still live. <br /> <br />Only the painting remain the same <br />just more yellow around the edges. <br />The tables despite constant lashings <br />of varnish still bare the engravings of hate. <br />Drunkens men's words last longer in wood. <br /> <br />The toilets with all there piss pools <br />from afternoon battered bladders <br />offered no solitude. <br />'white Pride does not hide' <br />Said the slogan in the shit smeared <br />cubicle, I could only laugh at the irony.<br /><br />Not Long Left<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-very-un-public-house-unless-your-white-of-cour/
