That day, I entered into
My favorite cafe,
city's busiest cafe.
The shelf in that corner,
Had dusty old novels, sometimes being touched for reading.
The pages brown and torn.

There are so many emotions
residing in that one cafe.
Some came here to talk for the last time.
Some to bloom their new love.
Some to make the new friends.
And others to maintain the peer,
once in a while.

That cafe which steals the attention,
Of everyone for the best of mocha and latte.
And so does, the coffee infuses different moods, in those beings
Those dim lights, the painted walls,
Vivid antic frames hanging, a little light music.
Everything about that cafe is pretty tonight.