This old coffee shop,
The smell is taking me back
To some old place, that feels like an escape
Once I entered, even my feet felt strange
This old place filled with new faces,
The food reminds me of old diners on the road
The music is lifting up my soul,
Could I have been here before?
The waitress seems to have outgrown this place,
I'm intrigued by her eyes and what she cannot say, the wave of secrets,
Ill be sitting front row to that play
I have escaped my reality the minute I walked inside this place,
I don't know if I am in the past or future,
Because this doesn't feel like the present
The time is still working,
So I must still be well put; in the present.
Stunning how we can't escape it and at the same exact time we vanish from the 'now' once in awhile
I can see the cook from the corner of my eye, checking if the food was all right,
The eyes never lie, with a satisfied soul,
Its time for me to go.
Check!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem