he drank his morning coffee with a drop of the sunrise mixed in
always one drop, never one more nor one less
just enough to hear the steam whisper
good morning
At noon he sipped his water
filled with remorse and not much else
work does that to you, you know?
he watched the clock tick tick tick the seconds away
and distractedness turned into dread
In the evenings, he drank shots of heartache mixed with every drop of the starlit sky he could get
Thirsty for more always wanting more
no amount of liquid hope could quench his thirst
He held his glass up to the heavens begging for slivers of the moon to trickle down into his soul
though the sky had nothing left to offer him
the next morning he mixed in an extra drop of the sunrise to ease the hangover
he had drinking problems
always drunk
rarely sober
i just combined my three poems, Good Morning, in the evening..., and High Noon into one and added one last stanza. i hope you like this.