Doormats

When the time to speak up has past we must stay seated,

staring uneasily at one another.

We cannot complain,

we must be happy enough.

It starts with a brushing of a single pair of hands,

though they do not belong to the same one person.

Muttered apologies, averted eyes but something felt so nice.

And soon we are all brushing hands, arms, knees against one another

and slowly we grow less bashful

and soon all our fingers are intertwined.

Leading a life of quiet desperation isn't so bad,

we find ways to be happy enough.