Night Life

I started writing this poem at Denny's one night, well morning rather.

Night Life


Sitting behind the counter
eyes weary from the trials of night life
some more kids stumble in
time to flash your complimentary smile
What'll it be?
Some coffee, dessert?
Or maybe just a friend.
Want a refill, Hon?
How about some emotion?
It's on special today.
It only costs a few kind words.
Do you think you could spare the change?
Seems like not many can these days
I swear, it doesn't hurt too much,
most likely not at all.
It's all right if you haven't got the time.
Is that all?
Count out your feeble attempt at appreciation
with the coins scattered across the table.
"Have a good night," you call,
as another group of kids stumble in.
This never ending process is stuck on repeat.


--9/21/01