Stare at the wall
Stare at the ceiling

Eyes glazed, minds dazed
Trapped in death wearing masks of sadness
Words spewing, flailing arms in less crowded space
Interruptions from the waiter cause obscure comments from the tables speaking guild

Is there a resolution to the conversation?
What is the purpose?
That’s the meaning, the manifesto…”***”

Idle chitchat to pass the time with hints and slivers of individual personalities

Plain and simple “***”