My Coffee Mug

Theres a storm Brewing in my mug The coffees dark The pane is dusty The clouds are black And the cup all brown Reflect on to me From the book below Lines words and para memories lie folded Some toxic some not In wooden frames The light reverberates Thro intangible channels Of Materialism Just another stormy morn Need to mend The storm within.... Theres a storm Brewing in my mug