the coffeehouse of many

the coffeeshop near my house
is home to dentists and business men alike
they drive different cars
they eat different food
they piss standing up and sitting down
they dress nice
they smile
they may even wear ties

the fireplace it burns
and we think that its a real fire
but its not
it's a figment of imagination
it looks like it's just at the same point
forever and all day

i look into this coffeehouse
and i see
i see everything and it lets me be
i see mother and daughter
fathers and sons
nothing like what D.H. Lawrence wrote
this is now and we are real
but we stand apart

you must have a heart
and a rough skull to tell them apart
are they just like what i thought they were
or is it facade? drinking tea? is this my dream?
is it something i believe in
do you know? for i may have forgotten?

what you see is my face
i shouldn't have let you seen it into the first place
but i am begotten, forgotten, unknown
i should have made sure to begin with
and maybe I would have been able to go to the galas
with the princes and princesses of this world
with 16 lawyers on each side of them
is  this for real, is this the appeal, can it be real
but now I will change my name
back into innocence

i may be lost, but at least that gives me a reason to be found.