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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1252678
one solitary day at Starbucks
COFFEE AND MELANCHOLY
by Peter Alistair

I.

There was a man i met

an unredeemable scowl troubled his face.

“I am alone,” he said.

He tightened his wrung arms and walked away.

So i went around

counting all the people in the world.

Billions, all in all.

i could not believe what i found:

(how could it?)

Indeed, the man was alone.


II.

A certain man i once knew.

i found him thrashing and crashing

within his room.

Flailing his arms,

he banged from wall to wall.

Distressed was i by this sight

that i asked, “What ails you, my friend?”

“ I  c a n ’ t  b r e a t h e ! ” he exclaimed in

terribly constricted gasps.

Alas, like a tight dark blanket

over his face,

melancholy smothered, stifled,

defeated this man.
© Copyright 2007 peter alistair (marlonborreo at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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