Coffee Shop

Smoke figures
are dancing to
lazy jazz.

Time is slo
as debris and trash
are floating past.

Another day, another planet,
the stars are smiling.

Late night coffeeshop musings
and the ticking of the clock
dragging on
and on
and on
and on
and on...

Time passes so slowly,
ike a sticky cloud,
like dragged out notes
draining energy from your soul.

Is this life?
Is this all?
Where have all the dreams gone?

Did they fly ahead,
ahead of our spaceship
into the black void
of the universe?

Or did they disappear
in the black void
of our souls?

Monitors beep and consoles flash,
technology is feasting
on our minds,
the last hopes humankind had.

They fall down the black hole,
decadent has ruined us,
the world fell apart
and we ascended to the stars,
hoping to be part of something big,
something greater.

The planets we sought
had disappeared before we could reach them.

The colonies were the same
old grey
space stations.

Mining giants of rock and ice,
selling the human soul
for whiskey and cigars
and a soggy coffee before the shift begins.

Stained sheets,
last attempt to reclaim love,
as we spiral further into the void.

You can't live
without accepting it,
becoming one
with the nothing
eating away at us.

Our thoughts crushing down
on us.
We can't bear them anymore.

And we float away
like the smoke
in the dirty station coffeeshop.