ANDREW BLAKEMORE

Rookie - 366 Points (01/01/1966 / BIRMINGHAM)

Cafe Breakfast - Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

The mustard walls were stained
By years of damp and condensation,
While the floor a giant chessboard
And I felt just like a pawn,
As the bacon sizzled softly
In the pan behind the counter,
I stared out of the window
And I watched the breaking dawn.

My coffee cup was empty
Like the room in which I sat,

No words or conversation
That could pass the time away,
The street was still and silent
Not a single soul I saw,
While clouds above held sorrow
With my thoughts of yesterday.

I tapped upon the table top
The rhythm of my life,
As I waited for my breakfast
Yet I yearned for something more,
My hunger burned so deep inside
My heartache slowly grew,
As all my woes and problems
Lay outside that cafe door.


Copyright Andrew Blakemore 2011

Topic(s) of this poem: love lost


Comments about Cafe Breakfast by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

  • Allemagne Roßmann (8/16/2011 3:53:00 PM)

    I listened to the sound of the bacon
    As it sizzled within the frying pan,
    And hoped it wouldn't take much longer to cook.

    Majestic way of ending verses someone should read this art from this man.Very nicely portrayed thoughts into narrations.
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  • Ramesh T A (8/16/2011 4:09:00 AM)

    It is taking me to your world of problem by your nice poem! Also it provokes hunger in me to eat something there with you, my friend! Nice picture depicted very well! (Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, January 10, 2017


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