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
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 4:45 AM UTC
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
