Flavored creamer clouds
swirling in my coffee mug,
moving shapes of critters,
but this morning there's really a bug.

Pour another cup,
expecting pretty clouds,
but the only one that appears
is a nuclear mushroom floating proud.

Take a sip, oh so sour,
I guess the milk had turned,
dump and rinse and try again,
I'm starting to feel burned.

This time I just pour it black,
to where has gone my mood,
I turn and head to the table,
trip and spill it into my food.

Throw it all away,
think about crawling back into bed,
but it's a manic Monday morning,
and if I miss work my job is dead.