The Coffee Cup Poem by Alfred Ramos

It was my mother’s favorite coffee cup
It sat high up on the shelf
Like hiding something from oneself
Always thought that coffee was her morning brew
That first charge of energy filled with morning dew
But instead
It did the opposite
Inside her head
Rockets hit
High on the shelf behind the coffee cup
Was the real reason she got up
The crutch to hold her steady
When her legs felt like spaghetti
Of course denials topped her list
Her dreams evaporating in the mist
The pressures of being a good mom
Turned her weakness into a ticking bomb
Her nerves on the edge of darkness
Medicated instincts become useless
The fire water put out no fires
Instead it drowns her motherly desires
The sink is filled with dirty dishes
Piled high like all her wishes
She held the cup so tight
It made her fist turn white
She couldn’t make eye contact
To hide the sparkle they now lack
We knew something didn’t add up
When she went for that favorite coffee cup
With blurred vision she could not see
The harm she was doing to sister and me
Then one day they came to take us away
And to this day we still pray