I stare at the empty table
Wondering who should I invite
For the table looks so ripe for a friendship cradle
But my soul sounds an alarm
For too many people pretend to want to connect
With a globally affected charm
A lack of time renders many unable
To be fully committed, invested and authentic
Yet they spitefully create a friendship fable
Breaking bread should mean something
Instead of just being another facebook posting
Or an instagram dumpling
An empty seat at the table
May be best left alone so as to not be trite
And the heart does not become sable
Categories: Poetry
Las palabras son triste – que pasa? I sometimes think people really want to connect, but are held back by the boundaries inherent in this sort of communication. Ask the 23 of us that clicked on ‘Like’ 🙂
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Ah, you are sweet. The words come out of me and i feel better 🙂
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