Oh foreign beans made of caffeine and love,
you never fail me.
What is this, a history paper to get done?
I never fear, for you will always be there
hugging me in your warmth.
Let me take you in,
Hush now, my sweet, tasty liquid.
The only sound I'll hear tonight is the hum of the
coffeepot and the clicking of
You'll help me write this wretched paper
and give me inspiration,
So do your job, Joe, and help
keep my eyes open and fingers typing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.