It is caffeine for sure
But even more the ritual
Which with brain baked
From sleep that does not rest
Gives power to my primary drug -
Achievement, a thing modest and fulfilling
As a decent cup of coffee
Which keeps me from those other drugs
That guard the gates of a hell
Where all are wlecomed in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A strongly aromatic piece with more than a spoonful of wisdom. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥