Every morning,
I made coffee for the people I loved.
A massive *** of brown gold
Perched atop a fiery hotplate,
Waiting to be used.

Hour by hour,
Dozens of cups were poured
As people began to smile
And forget about their worries.
Conversing and rejoicing,
The mundaneness of life
Becoming a subtle blur
As they slurped upon
The nectar I provided
Dutifully.

When all is said and done,
With all the happiness
That I've put into this world,
Tell me why I sit here
As empty as that *** of coffee
At the end of a long day?