Uncle Starbucks

Uncle starbucks

Sitting here, I observed him over the pages of my book. My concentration derailed it's purposeful track. With his oversized and trendy shades clinging over the flat bridge of his nose, he sat there, limbs dangling sideways, asleep.

Then all of a sudden, his body jerked and scared my vision back to the lost pages of this unknown book I'm holding. He bend down and pick up his leather cap that had fallen onto the floor beside his chair, solemnly slip it back on, covering his dyed blonde trims of remaining hair that barely survived the test of age.

The appear to waver around with his mp3 player as he plugged the earpiece into his lobes. He then fumble with his pack of dunhill and pull out a wretched stick, place it roughly at his mouth, envelope it with his dried wrinkled lips and takes a good long drag as he lit it.

Today is fathers day. But as any other days, I could still spot him here. Walking, sitting around this particular starbucks, With beverage or not, loitering his days away. Patrons around here pay no particular attention to him, unless he overstep borders and invade their space. Yes, he can be rather playful at times, oggling at young ladies and attempting to strike up dry conversations with them. Still, he is basically harmless if not annoying.

A smile flash across my face as I watch him hopping his head to the pressumably catching music in his mp3 player( which I would have to say is quite schick for someone of his age)

Then, out of no where, sadness stricks. As I realized that it would take a lot of boredom and loneliness to get. Man of his age to repeat such idle routine every single day. I wonder where he lives? What does he do or did to earn a living? Does he have any family? Children? Why is he here even on a fathers day. The fact that a few minutes ago I was still on the phone wishing my dad a happy fathers day.

Tears starts to well up and blur my vision of this lonely old man. Still sitting there, cigarrettes smoking away aside ashtray, as his head tilted sideway and dream himself into a place with family and friends....

Love is (for our bride to be: my dearest yee-mui)

Love is when i wake up
and see your face for the first time
every beginning of the day.

Love is when i'm alone
lost in the strangest places but
you'll find me every thousandth times.

Love is when i lie awake
tired and restless, but happiness smiles
as you inhibit my every beautiful thought.

Love is when i say good bye
my hands on your arms, my lips on your lips
as i know i want to be with you
every forever lifetime.