A Pretty Girl At The Bar

Palm pressed under her chin
Fingers against peach stained lips
Alone with her clear liquid
Sat a Pretty girl at the bar

Eyes lost in a world afar
Lifting her head back
Soft brown waves tumbling
She exhales clouds of white

Where does she go?
She is nowhere to be found
Though she sits at the bar
There is only an empty shell

In the intoxicated crowd
Amongst the dark smoke
No company in sight
Sat a Pretty girl at the bar

-Olivia Aimes

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