*some smooth rnb in the background*

Tuesday night it is…

Just after a single date with myself,

Poetry night isn’t for loners,

Or maybe poets are loners,

Loners that find embrace in their words,

Loners that find solace in the rhyme,

Loners that find comfort in the script…



Tuesday night it is…

Just from occupying a table solo…

At least a meal today came in pairs,

Free things are quiet rare,

And cool offers that’s what every economist looks for,

A table of four and I am solo..

Isn’t this always the drill???


Tuesday night it is…

Having a late shift tonight,

Serving cocktails what better thing to do,

Other than reading that micro thing,

Am I really a loner?


Tuesday night it is…

Tryna figure the mystery that exists,

Tryna solve a sum of me and you,

Coming with a solution.

And not a product of this so called thing…



Wednesday  morning it will be,

And everything will be blurry,

No sun to brighten things,

Just the rain and muddy streets!!!!!!


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