Poetry

In between coffee sips

In between coffee sips

He’d pause and ponder

Wonder

About all the wonders of his own life

Why am I not at home?

Maybe there isn’t one.

Maybe I destroyed all of it.

Maybe I let her go

Did I? Was it me?

His life was not a tragedy

As hard as he tried

To make it one

His soul wasn’t there anymore

No matter how much

It seemed to be

This can’t be happening.

It couldn’t be true.

She meant nothing to me.

But she did.

Or why would he sit here

Amongst coffee sips

Miserable and sorry

Sharing drinks, thoughts and tears

With a tombstone.

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