Dregs at the bottom of my coffee cup,
the burnt remains I could never finish up,
My poems always had to rhyme and I hated that,
I hated me.
Sediment at the bottom of a river,
it turns from crystal to mud,
still carrying the weight of a 100,000 tons,
but never looking pretty enough.
Sediment at the bottom of a river,
the farther out you are, the bluer it becomes
because you can't see the piles of dirt underneath
or the diamonds that lay beneath