The coffee you left on the counter is cold
Your tea kettle's
stashed in a place no one knows
Sometimes it feels like time slips through a hole in your front door
But you never listen, say eventually you'll get to it
Why don't you let me fix anything
Everything, you mean to me
then why is it so hard for you to believe
Well I'm all alone in a room with cold coffee
I look across the table
You reach out for my hand
I remember you're there now, that this is our plan
and we're not done
No we're just living for that morning sun
that might heat up that cold coffee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem