Usually I'm content
To sit here on my own
A quiet coffee shop
In bland, relaxing tones
(with a dash of red)
Today something has changed
I feel that there should be
A friend in the red chair
Behind my cup of tea
(and the plate that held my bread)
I gaze out the window
Search for a face I know
But all I see are strangers
Tramping the dirty snow
(cold tears the sky has shed)
And suddenly … I get the lonely feeling that I'm the only person in the world who knows my name.
It would explain why I talked to my hair this morning.
To sit here on my own
A quiet coffee shop
In bland, relaxing tones
(with a dash of red)
Today something has changed
I feel that there should be
A friend in the red chair
Behind my cup of tea
(and the plate that held my bread)
I gaze out the window
Search for a face I know
But all I see are strangers
Tramping the dirty snow
(cold tears the sky has shed)
And suddenly … I get the lonely feeling that I'm the only person in the world who knows my name.
It would explain why I talked to my hair this morning.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.
Aderes18
_Elsy_
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