The Loneliest Greeting Card by John Patrick Robbins

The Loneliest Greeting Card

The streets are all vacant and the city a ghost town.
I didn’t belong but then again when did I ever?

Least no one would notice a bum with a bottle, drunk off his ass walking down the seawall in Portsmouth.

The few out weren’t here for the sights , for the homeless knew no holidays.
And as I sat there on the bench I knew this life was not a blessing but a curse.

I watched two marriages crumble and now I burned the candle at both ends.

Looked at the red ribbons battle with the winds as they fought to remain intact.

Everywhere was closed but for drunkards and bums it was the loneliest day on earth.
The kind that reminds you pain knows many forms.

I took another hit from the bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag.
Watched the ships in the harbor pass.

Bid the sun farewell and eventually made my way back home before handing another lost soul some change.

Greetings from the lost on the earth’s loneliest day.

 

John Patrick Robbins
Is the editor-in-chief of the Rye Whiskey Review , Under The Bleachers and Drinkers Only .
He is also the Author of,  A Perverts Christmas available now from Whiskey City Press  on LuLu.
His work has been published here at Punk Noir Magazine , Ariel Chart, Piker Press , The San Pedro River Review, The San Antonio Review,  As It Ought To Be Magazine and Oddball Magazine. 
His work is always unfiltered
JPR Nov