This was supposed to be the last conversation
All cluttered up in mess
No humour this time !
In tightly packed cafe
They looked for their end
With no words to each other
They knew it had to end
Why not ?
Who would agree?
They wanted to hold each other's hands for the last time
Talk about good times
But what are good times in bad days
They never delved into it
Agony ,pain , ego all were served as dishes
Before them
They had to choose one
One tried to speak
Other dragged the hand to comfort.
But put it back
Their lips shook
And abruptly it all ended .
The boy left
While
The other boy kept sitting
I saw it all in the cafe
With pain filled coffee that I kept sipping .