and the wax runs down the candle
just like teardrops.

To the table,
and you try to hide the feelings
deep inside you.

Drink your coffee,
and cry a while for someone
just to talk to.

Toasted sandwich,
so you sit there at your table,
lick your plate clean.

Drawing patterns
in the dust and crumbs and coffee
on your table.

Feeling lonely,
so you listen to the people
all around you.

some is witty, some is sad
and some is loving.

Coffee's finished,
so then you stand and pay
and then you're leaving.

Come again.

- by Prajna Pranab, 1979