The app for independent voices

In the room where I die

I make myself coffee,

in a pot,

Five times a day

I  grind fresh beans,

pour hot water from the pot

into a Cup ,

In the room where I die,

I make my coffee

While I wait,

Five times

every day ,

And even in  that waiting

I am yours

Apr 3
at
6:31 PM

Log in or sign up

Join the most interesting and insightful discussions.