New café, perhaps this is the one.
Clean, inviting
But looks deceive
Busy, rushed, process driven
Not a smile
Cold, automata
No connection
Corner table, not available
Rejected
Take another, not my choice
Hard walls, stone floor
Nothing soft.
Speakers blasting, incomprehensible music
Every sound, reverberating
Smashing my head
No room left for thinking
No room left for my coffee
Overload
Perhaps
Redirect the noise
A poem
To capture my struggle
But overwhelmed
Fail, fail
Must escape
Get out, get out
Abandon
My elixir
Now cold, scum on top
Cannot save
Relief as I flee
Look back
See only an echo
…echo
…echo