Reminiscence Poem by Cyclopseven R

An old coffee shop
in an old mining town
carries along a past
full of migrant story
of people from another country.
the wooden tables with marble top
the wooden chairs with antic carving
the bulbs with shining yellow
the people that sits in reverie
the cups which contain steaming tea and coffee
tell the story in the stillness of thoughts;

smoke puffed into oblivion
together thoughts whisk away
about loved ones left behind
unknown their fate till today;
a tale of pain and woes
hidden between the gory wrinkles
heated by merciless tropical rays
fate in both countries is not a fairy tale.
scarcity of embrace visibly noticed
sucked away by depressive moods
tender care anticipated by all
yet shyness prevent the soul
from opening more and more towards all.

in the quietness of night
every migrant dreams a dream luxurious
thinking of thicker blood that flows in another land
in another body
and pray that all be happy.

migrant’s life is a migratory story
what remains will be the history
remnant of thoughts dissident to rest.