Eight Ball Corner Pocket



I called eight ball side pocket

And as I drew a bead off the cue

You exited corner pocket

The bar door

As if it were your queue


I thought I had at least some control

But it was me got played

In this game called love

Tried to keep it together

But as I lied to myself

You left the first moment you could take


I should have known in the beginning

As we racked up

The irony

We call it the break


Now I’m the eight ball

In the corner

Hands in pockets

Alone and wondering

What life has racked up for me


I used to think

My game was with you

But now I look around

Every ball I see a cue

In the blankness of their faces

All I want to see is you


No names

No faces

In my life’s games

I know my place

Alone in this corner


And in this corner

I take my queue

And turn to face

The faceless view


No names

No faces

In my life’s games

No agenda on my docket


Called my fate in life

That was until

I heard you call

Eight ball corner pocket