A broken leg floats
After its bones sink,
yellow turns red
turns white turns pink,

sweet turns black
turns sour turns rotten,
It turns in its grave
it bangs in its coffin,

Coffee beans are chopped
and bought from them,
turned hot and then forgotten,
Turned cups flow their drink
toward the waste,

It waits in the **** and under the bandage,
based in the wound and under the scabbing,
It's soon to fall off and show us a scar,
It's color is pink, It's over the raw.