Rock n' roll, coffee, the essential aesthetics for my simple days that feel alright.
Not too inspired, but not sad inside.
Yesterday I resisted the urge to drink my deep sadness away,
but on this dreary summer afternoon where my mood is just above something numb,
slightly fragile but looking around with a smile,
I choose to open up a bottle of Baileys to add colour to my black coffee.
Mind on a bottle of beer shortly after, dancing free like I used to to this good ol rock and roll.
The cat stares at me then walks away. He likes to wander like myself.
He crawls back to my side to kiss me at just the right time.
'Hurts so good, come on baby make it hurt so good. Sometimes love don't feel like it should -' *beep*
Coffee is ready.
Time to begin again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem