Coffee

Coffee

In different forms on every table,
I see how a new story begins to initiate.
As I sit on one of them confiding mine inside the latte coffee by my side,
and a drawing pad trying to doodle something fine.
In front of me is a bunch of chirpy friends, seems it has been long since they met.
In this sprinting world whats better than a coffee to cherish their bond.
There in the corner sits a seemingly fledging couple,
Fiddling with each other’s feet with every sip they take.
Just next to their table is a young girl telling the tale of her breakup to her friend,
her scars dancing along with the aroma in the air bitter but sweet, much like the life we breathe.
Oh, how tales of love and heartbreak blend like coffee beans.
Just next to them is a women middle aged,
her experiences clear enough by her wrinkled face.
Savouring the cappicino she ordered, as if each other’s strenghth they both embrace.
In another corner is a guy with his ambitious eyes glued to his laptop’s screen, drinking his cold coffee with brewing dreams.
And next I turned to find this little girl, her clothes tainted but face too cute to ignore.
She stared through the glass, looking with earnesty to this world beyond her reach.
So I count the cash in my wallet and decide to bring her inside,
offering her a seat I order a coldcoffee and sandwitch hoping it will suffice.
As she finishes a full meal with that content on her tiredface and happiness in her much longed eyes I bid her good bye,
and finally end my doodle with a line-
Coffee isn’t just coffee, its a feeling, a prologue to new stories, to new endings.
That we all need to discover for our own selves. Cheers !

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Rhea Hans
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