A storefront set on a brick road,
windows decorated to perfection.
As soon as the door is opened,
I am hit with the soothing smell
of brewing coffee.
The walls are decorated with history,
old pictures and knick-knacks,
labels and packaging.
And I walk down the aisle,
wood floor creaking under my feet,
to order a fresh cup of warmth.
At the table in the corner,
close to the door,
I uncover the voice that has been
hiding for too long.
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