As I walked into the coffeehouse,
I spotted her flowery blouse,
She looked up with her doleful eyes,
Where her despair apparently lies.
She invited me to take a seat,
For the story she has to tell,
About her lover who left her,
The day love turned to hell.
Again, looking at me with those doleful eyes,
She then began to pour out her malaise,
Starting from the day when she met him,
She continued, till her mood has turned grim.
At last, nearing her final anguish,
She closed her eyes and folded her hands like a mantis,
Not letting her feelings get into her,
She changed her mood so fast it was a blur.
Calling for the waiter, she ordered an espresso,
Not knowing what to do, I just went with the flow,
Lost was I in her perfect guise,
Till I heard her mournful sighs.
—DOLEFUL EYES—
