Among the surrounding tables filled with chatter,
he was back where they had first met.
Only this time the cafe's coffee didn't taste as better as it did back then,
there wasn't that one person to brew up the talks with.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoetrySometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
