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 who seem to have met after long,
In this sprinting world whats better than a coffee to cherish their bond.
And there in the corner sits a seemingly a fledging couple,
Fiddling with each other’s feet with every sip they take.
And just next to their table is a young girl telling the tale of her breakup to her friend, for her scars seem to crop up with this aroma in the air which is equally bitter as it is sweet much like the life we breathe.
And i see there the aromas of love and heart break in coffee blend.
Just next to them is a women middle aged
Her experiences clear enough by the wrinkles on her face.
Savouring the cappicino she had ordered as if each other’s strenghth they both embrace.
And in another corner is a guy with his ambitious eyes glued to his laptop’s screen drinking his cold coffee with brewing dreams
As i turn i see a little girl with tainted clothes but a face too cute to ignore staring through the glasses looking with earnesty to this world beyond her reach
I count the cash in my wallet and decide to bring her inside
and offering her a seat i order a coldcoffee and sandwitch hoping it will suffice
And as she finishes with that content on her tiredface and the happiness in her much longed eyes i bid her good bye
and finally end my doodle with a line
Coffee isnt just coffee for its a feeling , a prologue to new stories , to new endings
That we all need to discover for our own selves . Cheers !
trouville 