Variations Poem by Mathew Lewis

Five people at a club,
One a compulsive drinker.
Sitting at the bar twenty four seven,
Never moving form the seat,
Never leaving save to draw money
From the dwindling deposit.

Another nothing more then an avid party goer.
Obsessed with the music,
Even more with the booze.
Hoping against hope
That there is something more to life.

Another sits on the periphery,
Never drunk never sober.
A perfect mismatch.
Trying to fit in
But failing dismally.

The fourth a smoker.
Living off life's beloved cancer stick.
Neither here nor there,
Neither alive nor dead.
Fearing for the worst.

The last a gentle one.
Hoping to possess no one and nothingness.
Perhaps one day we'll know the goodness
Of an unstained seed.

And so we live our lives.
Never good never bad.
Just on the edge of society.
Hoping to break in.