Poem #402

There’s a continent on my coffee.
A very literal wake up call.
Even my morning is trying to tell me
it’s time to change, leave, evolve.
Shed the old skin, grow a new one.
Become someone else.

Someone less afraid.
Someone less who I am and more who I want to be.

The coffee tastes as bitter as denial.
Everything around me is screaming at me
and I am trying to outvoice it with my distractions.
How long can I ignore this hollow existence I created for myself?
How long can I survive instead of live?

There’s a continent on my coffee,
and I am stuck in one place, geographically and spiritually.


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5 thoughts on “Poem #402

  1. I can relate to it.

  2. send me some of the cookies please.. lol glad you are feeling passionate! 💖

  3. WOW!!! This is truly relatable and amazing!

  4. It’s a bittersweet relationship with coffee.

    1. I don’t normally read poetry but stumbled upon this.
      You know, I drink coffee first thing in the morning after I give the kids their milk and with any luck, I get a minute or two to myself and have the same thoughts that you express here.
      Thinking about the today, the future, the road ahead.
      How to be a better father, husband and person.

      Thanks for writing and sharing.

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