We meet every morning in the coffee shop, opening our eyes with a bold cup of java.
Chatting about the daily news in the paper, the controversy, hardship and damnation between lines in the pages. Our beverages getting cold as we talk with reservation and restraint, exercising political correctness, morality and the like. Our joy is engaging in conversation, while our cups rest in saucers tight. The subjects dwindle slowly as we exhaust our supply of caffeine. Like old habits that die hard we rely on our coffee clutch
For stimulation is the voice we crave and talk doesn't cost much.
Copyright © Jeralyn Tolliver | Year Posted 2015
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