a pint

They said you’re making dreams
said your drawing out the times
but you just fiddle with the idle hours
and spend the good ones writing rhymes.
Who’s to say you are a student and
who’s to say they’re here to teach.
Who’s to say the problems are meant to solve,
who’s to say who’s incomplete.
I saw you just the other night,
sipping stories about your past,
you had this look upon your tired face
that made we wish the bad times last.
I tasted all your memories
the way they brewed beneath your tongue
and by the time I wanted out of there
there was too far for me to run.
So we shared a pint of sorrow
and talked about last June
and dreamt of what life could be like,
if I wasn’t always leaving you.