There are days
when I sit alone in cafés
with coffee as my friend
and a book as my reason
for why I stay so long
Pretending not to watch
not seeing anyone
I stare at my book
and make out I read
when all the while
I sneak a look
I hear their talk
It seems to me
many are short on luck
so much dreaming
of all they can’t have
and some
have dreamed so large
it shatters their soul
I wondered why
I waste my time
love to stay
in the company of cafés
what was this fascination
turned to addiction?
I sit in cafés
because I need to know
I’m not the only one
it’s not just me
who is short on luck
not just me
who’s afraid to dream
not only I
who’s soul needs repair