Irani Cafe Owner

Constantly he counted coins as if to play
Customers queued, kept coming to pay
Each holding little bill with nothing to say
Fifty years on the same seat only dream could stay

Curved bamboo chairs around small tables round
Black Burmese wood indeed carved furniture sound
Wide tall showcase behind the counter displayed
Buns, biscuits and brushes with other daily aids

Nothing really changed all these long years
Stale boredom had dried up all his tears
He lost his mother when he was too young
His dumb father died without opening his tongue

No one else in town he could claim his own
Customers came daily little consideration ever shown

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One Response to Irani Cafe Owner

  1. Austin says:

    We truly need more economists of joy. Well said. Well written!

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