The Saloon

The saloon fixed me with its ethanol,
Finding me a pack of cards to destroy
And my life as well.
Salmon and pistols, pastries and bullets
Were working fine for me, like a clock.
But the revolver was positioned in such a talented
Way that I wasted my life once.
Music erupted forming bubbles in the air,
Dams of bright water fulfilled the task.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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