The one on his own at the bar

Last week’s prompt from Paul Brookes was the acrostic form. I’d never written an acrostic poem before so gave it a try. This is what I came up with. I assumed that any subject was acceptable.

The one on his own at the bar

Gabble drips from your loose lips,
Offering opinions no one wants to hear.
Behind your effusions and hearty back-slaps,
Silence, as women roll eyes and sip their drinks.
Hands you try to shake, raise to catch the barman’s attention
Instead, backs turn, hoping you’ll go away.
There is a world of misogyny and arrogance in your
Eyes, that fondle what you will never have.