Exotic Club

I spend most of my time alone,
Moping around listening to music,
Depressed and brooding,
It is a garment
I’ve grown rather comfortable in.
A friend will on occasion
Drag me out of the house,
Presumably for my own good.

On such an occasion,
A friend persuaded me
Into visiting an exotic club.
I had a beer or two
And closely watched
The lovely movements of the girls.
They were beautiful,
But I mostly felt sad,
I hoped they didn’t hate me
For looking at them all creepy-like.

I then went home
And had another beer
And looked at my old cat;
I was still rather sad but comfortable.

poem by Uriah Hamilton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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