I used to love coffee
Darkly rich
Emptily bold
Now upon each sip no stories are told
My lips and tongue curl and fold
Sickly and yellow my bowels hold
A bath of espresso i take to wake myself cold
There is not start to the song and my skin wrinkles old
What is a soul but something to wither-scold
Another cup yes and not a word shown
My cup is empty and my cover is blown
There is nothing here but stained tombstone