Mango Shake and Mocha Frappuccino

I wait for a stranger whose touch
Never lingered
An image of such serendipitous
Moments, there’s too much
atrocity in my world
Of what if’s and what might have been’s
His weapon’s a pen, mine’s paper
I’m but a fan, a reader
Contemplating on why the cover
Of a book has the same color as
The mango shake on my table.

I never dream, I only hope.
Dreaming is such a painful
process which in the end
might put me into a coma.
I never cry but I grieve.
Tears are remnants of my
Mocha frapuccino overdose.
I wait for a shadow, a name,
An entity.
If he comes, I don’t think
I will be happy. I never seek
For happiness, it seeks
Me. I never
Seek for him, neither
does he.
Brown and yellow look
good together.