At The Local Coffee House Poem by Marcus McKinley

Digits pelting keys
Water drums the plate glass
Its rhythm sets my mind at ease
In this cyber café as time slips past

My thoughts waft with brewed aromas
In the hustle and bustle for caffeine comas
The lethargic, rush to a calming pace
The first sip of a smiling face

An odd comfort in this social atmosphere
Draws together those far and near
As we seek to escape reality
Out of the rain we huddle in masses
Individually connected collectively

In plain sight, screens hidden
For none can see
The duality of our social lives
Becoming more intrusive inquisitly
Secretly dissecting these social sites