Out of This World

Sipping her tea without any visible relish, Her crumpled bag of shopping at her tired feet, Alone she sits in the cafe and isolatedly apart Stranded in her sorrowful sea of sadness Only to raise momentarily her sightless eyes At the sound of the peripheral trivial vivacity Portending the levity of another tomorrow Before relapsing into her inward gaze To consider not the future but endless eternity. That picture echoed in her hollowed out cheeks Her funereal clothes, lacklustre look and lifeless lethargy Spelling out a life no longer enjoyable More of a sentence to be endured. She drags herself out of her chair Gathering her belongings together For her unsteady exit To enter upon the remaining days Of her final moribund pilgrimage