Horton's
It wasn't much a lengthy walk.
It' only served my weight.
I'd walk as far as feet could walk
and all my muscles freight.
Ahead of me the final stop
Where coffee'd be my fate.
To finish off a feeble walk.
One suited for the bait.
Then rustled to a tired state
where all my hopes were high.
Arriving at a Horton's last
would bring a coffee sigh.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2016
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