Dishes clinking within earshot away
while the masses longingly stared
at a dim lit table where two people swayed
to the depths of the words that they shared.
"The sky is falling!" Said the man with gun.
But the two sat, failing to move.
Neither one turning to flee or to run
But choosing to stay in their booth.
With plates clean and pitchers all poured,
He reached out his hand to hers
With eyes on eyes they walked off towards
tomorrow in each others worlds.
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