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
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