One-hour Meeting

Lunch together, it’s only an hour.
For me, this meal is regularly sour.
We’ll chat and ideate, maybe we’ll create.
It is the journey home that will turn one into eight.

I run into the cafe. He serves me a double shot.
The coffee is inside me. I dream it will hit the spot.
He sees the cup empty. I’m asleep on the table.
Confused, he double checks the caffeine label.

He wakes me up and sets me free,
I have a problem the world cannot see,
He assumes I’ve had a late night.
as I fell asleep before the fight.

I fight for wakefulness. My eyes are bloodshot, my tears fall.
I try to resist. I’m against a brick wall.
I take a train to bed, but I collapse again.
Moving fast underground. I wake in zone ten.

End of the line, I change side and return to the city.
This conductor knows me, he holds back his pity.
I’ve visited that station before, but only the station.
I go there in error, while others take their vacation.

I’m back in the centre. It happened again.
I just want to go home and lie down in my den.
The taxi arrives, this option is immune.
I can barely afford it, one hour for lunch and I’ll be home by moon.

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