Downtrodden

I stare at the blank page,
cigarette in hand,
my thoughts scattered like the ashes
that fall from my fingers.

My mind wanders
through the back alleys
and dive bars
of this gritty city.

I've seen it all
the drunks, the losers,
the broken hearted and
the downtrodden.

I am one of them
in my own way,
swimming in a sea of
cheap booze and self pity.

But there are moments
of beauty and hope
that shine through
the darkness.

The neon lights
of a rundown motel,
the laughter of a woman
who's had too much Tequila.

I'll never leave this place
but sometimes
I find joy
in the misery.