the coffee mug is lukewarm,
signaling the passage of time
since last I sipped from its
darkened depths
and I sigh for the beans
that came all this way for
such an uninspired fate.
would if I were a royal
or diplomat, whose lips
on the merit of imagined
importance perhaps taste
more deeply and profoundly
than my own; then my
little liquid companion might
feel less cheated by my
unintentional neglect.
Sappy/Crappy Poetry Blog 