Coffee, Cigarettes and Me

Coffee, Cigarettes and Me

Sitting alone under the cold night sky

Listening to the hum of traffic passing by

Got my coffee, got my cigarettes,

Got my pen and paper too.

My phone, lifeless on the garden table, 

Stares up at me, asking to be woken

Unable to swipe across the screen

Too afraid to type your name

It lies dormant, communication breakdown

Picking up my pen and paper, from beside the phone,

I begin to write. So much easier than speaking

Scribbling questions that I want to ask

Sentences that I want to say

Too many written words that I will never speak

I put down the pen as my mind drifts away

Smiling thoughtfully, I reflect upon all that has gone before

The good, the bad, the sad and, of course,

The many stupid things that I have said and done

Wondering, will I ever learn?

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