THE STRANGER IN THE COFFEE SHOP

The following is a poem that I penned during an ‘open poem writing’ competition which got splendid response.

                                         THE STRANGER IN THE COFFEE SHOP

  

                                                                   

Glued in the chair I stayed 

For the coffee I ordered                                              

Among the folk

A minute or two ago.

There came in a stranger

With a smiling face and bald head.

Nothing remarkable he wore

But a red shirt and a plain short

Gently with the pace of breeze

He walked to the counter

Took the ears of the lady behind it

And whispered a word or two

And with her head nodding

The matter seemed approved.

He turned to face us

And to address,

“Ladies and Gentlemen, one may come and one may go

But today, I shall go forever.

For never have I found a reason

And a meaning of my existence

Never could I do anything remarkable.

Hence, I must finally go

But not a coward’s death

But a death of a hero

With this last act of mine! ”

He took a graphite-black pistol

Placed its cold muzzle on his temple

Took a deep breath

And with that smiling face

Ended his life with the pull of the trigger.

But to this day, I ponder

If his last act be a hero

Or just another imprudence?

Not only had he been a stranger

For a day in the coffee shop

But a stranger for eternity.