Coffee Is Fresh Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

The coffee is fresh.
And today?
Much of it is being breweď.
WAKE UP!
Smell it.
Get use to the aroma.
Here to stay.
To not go away.

Preferences for tea to pour,
With crumpets to nibble.
And more of this adored.
The routine of it,
Is going to be missed.
Long with neighbors...
Friends.
And many others loving to gossip.
Once done to do now to reminisce.

Effective and permanent,
Are the changes to have been made.
A virus introduced to produce a pandemic.
May have come to stun,
And shocked everyone the way it did.
But masks to wear and a social distance,
Made to keep many sleepless at night.
In disbelief sheep once to count,
Now are the ones heard to snore.

Well...
All things normal as they were before,
No more do they exist.
Gone and quick.
Is that normalcy to be replaced,
By an updating of reality.
And truth to know it,
For its ease to deceive.
Will continue to be a way of life.
Whether or not who accepts.
Or refuses to choose to believe.
The coffee being brewed,
Has less of it to pour...
Than tea done to spill it everywhere.
Leaving everyone aware,
Of a different taste.
Under their noses they allowed created!

"Coffee?
Fresh?
Coffee fresh? "

-Remember when they were known,
For their tea.
And delicious fortune cookies.
As well as every item we claimed to own.
Now they have us smelling their coffee.
Everywhere there is no escaping it! -