Smoky Cafes

They sit in smoky cafes watching the poets go by

watching the poets speak

and they remember

they listen for the songs of freedom they once sang

the faint echoes of revolution, “fight the power!!”

bounce off the walls of reality checks and adult responsibilities

reverberation of ancient fervor

No time to fight the power when you’re fighting for your life

You need the power

You want the power

and soon… you are the power

the system that needs changing has changed you

They sit in smoky cafes drinking tea by the pot and wondering when they finally grew up

when they realized that real love, real hope, real life are real fantasies and real bills are the only sureties in life

They sit in smoky cafes and try to remember what it was like not to be jaded, not to care

to feel deeply and love greatly

wonder why they greet each declaration of self discovery with a knowing smirk at the same time stifling a yawn for things not only heard before but said and lived and forgotten

Now only a washed out memory

Nuance in the way their fingers twitch just that much as they stir their tea

their hearts beat just that much faster as the body remembers what the mind locked away

nostalgic for youth and naivety

but knowing better


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