I don't know what I don't know

In an old bar,
that's not too dingy
or divey.

With a tin ceiling
and a three-fingered man
behind that the bar.

The stories
survive and serve
as jukebox ones.

These are the same
tales probably told
every single night.

I relate to seeing
the light,
too late.

We are all
in an artificial sea,
or at least a movie.

Get off your
goddamn phone
and be better.

In a world
where we don't exist,
let's exist together, timeless.