He asks if I'm ok.
Startled out of my reverie
I see,
one full ashtray
and a half cup of cold coffee.
With a faroff smile
I nod,
more coffee please.
Sipping this cup
of passionless,
equals emotions
you never expessed.
As he walks off
to do my bidding,
I reflect on why
I did yours.
Hoping, I guess.
Chain smoking days,
cold coffee nights
of dismissal,
scorned for another.
Tears sweeten bleak coffee.
That four letter word
was never in your vocabulary.
Realisation is poignant comfort
as I light another cigarette,
drink this austere cup
of the disdain I now feel
and still I am waiting
for that
fresh cup...
In a list
A contest entry
- Cold Coffee & Cigarettes by MuddyKing.
600 points, ended April 4, 2007, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Some desperation in this piece coffee cigarets yes somehow speak of time suspended for selfintrospection surely that what it was in my youth a sign of inner crisis. You have expressed this beautifully. Well done.
Adding your comment:
