You Can'T Write A Poem About Starbucks Poem by Mr. Awesomesauce

Six o’clock am.
The early morning crowd starts to pile in.
The cashier starts to take orders from the sleepy customers
Wanting to wake up for their long day of work.
Finally, it’s my turn
I’m so hungry, but I’ve only got 5$.
What should I buy?
A nice strong cup of coffee?
Or maybe a nice, fresh doughnut?
So many choices, but what to choose?
The line-up starts to get restless, they need their coffee.
The cashier asks me: “What’ll it be? There is a line-up you know.”
I make my last-minute decision, a large cup of coffee.
I go and wait by the barista counter, waiting for my coffee, thinking about work.
Then, it happens. I had reached for my coffee too quickly and
SPLASH!
Oh no! I spilled coffee all over my suit!
I must go home and change!
I walk outside.
It’s warm out, like coffee.
Now, it looks like I’ll be late.