My coffee is getting cold
And I'm too stuck for a poem
To reheat or refill my cup
With a hotter version
It just happens too often
Trying and trying
Staring into the faces
That pass before me...
Hoping for a story in their eyes
Or smile or clothes
Blank as paper they go by
The grass is green
The sky is blue
Life is getting too damned cliche'
There are no conversations I can steal
And the news is always a rerun
I look into my cup of coffee
There are no clouds
Just me...
Looking back....
At me
And I've failed you
Assuming you have even read this far
I have no profound ending
Nothing to sit you back
In your chair with envy
That you didn't write it first
So I guess you can feel good
That you still can.
(* Written for my sister Julie)
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