She works long hours,
serving coffee and eggs,
dealing with rude customers
and lecherous men.
But she still smiles,
and her eyes sparkle,
and I can’t help but wonder
what’s behind that facade.
Maybe she’s an artist,
or a poet, or a dreamer,
just like me,
stuck in this dead-end job.
Or maybe she’s just a waitress,
doing what she needs to do,
to survive and thrive,
in this cruel world.
PHOTO CREDIT : PEMA LAMA
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