Scrub. Splash. Clink. Clamor.
His ears are as deaf to the din
As a veteran’s to cannons,
His eyes blind to the light
As if he had stared at the sun.
He lives in this old watering hole,
Managing the wants of rich and poor alike.
Trappings of class are taken at the door,
Leaving only humanity to humble itself.
All is bared in the barkeeper’s lair,
But judgement is spared,
For he is no worthier of bestowing justice,
Than the saviors and scum he serves.