A disheveled man walks into a restaurant,
His eyes shined as he saw his family at the table,
It’s been a year of cheap dinners and eating alone,
Now he’s exchanging stories, passing the ladle
The meal ends and so was the blissfulness,
You thought he’d be fine by the end of the night
But he didn’t find a cure to homesickness,
All he found out was that everyone’s time was finite
//
She forces her cigarette butt down into the ash tray,
It was a few seconds of relief from hours into screens,
She took some mints before her colleagues have their say,
But she knows they all move to a different fault; from sins
to sins,
The clock struck six and everyone’s eager to meet their
wives,
She could hear echoes, saying she’s feisty and will put up a
fight,
Joking through, while shaming others for living their lives,
All she found out was that her patience was finite
//
He reaches home, tired and all out of breathe,
Salt from late night dinners weren’t doing any favours,
He stares at his paycheck to do his monthly math,
Computing the numbers, both blessing and a curse,
A little bit extra this month for the flight home,
His empty suitcase seems to be emitting a light,
Guiding a path far from where he roamed,
At least he knows that the struggle was finite