I hate coffee.
A rare occurrance in such an adult world.
Everything about it seems so inviting.
I'ts rich smell.
The feel of the coffee beans against your palms.
The blackest shade of black against that classic white mug.
A grown-up's haven in a lifetime of bad mornings.
I guess I still have some growing up to do...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem