I work in a coffee shop
For little more than sight
The sight of those who enter
At midday

Those that don't work
Their faces lined like
Maps fully filled
They come in to talk

Those that can't work
The sight of the infant in
The man who is led within
They come in to be somewhere

And those who do work
Their lines only filled a little
But I know they will be unchanging
They come in to earn a pittance

And me
I can leave
I am so unexplored, but
It's easy to imagine life ending here

In the coffee shop