Early Morning Coffee

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A simple poem covering the joy of sitting at a 24-hour restaurant at the odd hours of the morning enjoying coffee

Submitted: March 06, 2008

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Submitted: March 06, 2008

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Head in my hands,
I’ve been here before.
This booth where my idle thoughts soar,
Oh, and true my worries too,
This place is a festival for the muse and concerned.
The coffee that warms and comforts dear,
Milky brown and bittersweet,
Is used too much and it seems is never strong enough,
To chase away the unwanted objects,
That do not seem to exist.
Oh god must be spiteful, vengeful, cruel, sadistic…
For I see others like me,
Scattered about at 3A.M. with their own thoughts and worries,
Their own books, pencils, gadgets,
And personal graveyard of stained white cups,
With mourning empty creamers and sugar packets.
This crowd of the early morn,
This sight of unsettling realization,
This is when I am at my prime.
Yes, when surrounded by this drearily quaint environment,
I feel at peace.
Let me drink it in with my coffee…
This multitude of feelings and thoughts,
A chaotic peace, a masterpiece,
This little niche of life…
I’ll spin this very scene, this very moment…
Into words of transcending reality.


© Copyright 2017 Lathriel. All rights reserved.

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