There'll Be Another One Along In A Minute (Poetry)

Her latté’s grown cold
she glares at the cup
feels wretched and old
decides to give up
give in and go home

The squeak of the door
has her glancing round
it’s only one more
false-hope-raising sound
she stifles a groan

Her wait is in vain
faith withers and dies
love’s fooled her again
doubt doubles in size
romantic thoughts flown

She hauls to her feet
and buttons her coat
brave-faces the street
a lump in her throat
she dawdles alone

*****

A voice melts the spell
of self-pity’s ice
though too soon to tell
this stranger seems nice
the danger unknown