Morning Coffee

Short poem on morning coffee and memories.

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It is strange to think,

That you are just a memory.

That someone who once was so important

Now is just a memory.

The smell of my morning coffee,

Is your smell.

The smell of cigarettes in the street,

Is your smell.

The early morning wake up calls,

Is secretly you.

The Sunday roasts that do not compare,

Are yours.

And whilst there will be no one like you,

Again.

I need to let you rest as just a memory.

Here is a short poem to entertain you for a while. Ever so sorry that I have not been posting much or regular just recently but it has been deadline and exam month galore for me. Now that I am off for summer and only have my job to contend with I should be able to post more regular and share more reviews, creative writing and insights into my life. Though I am going away for a week next Saturday, so bare with me. Thank you for understanding.

Just a small poem I wrote for The Wells Muse (https://indd.adobe.com/view/e7461d5c-c563-49e9-b87e-84657d2d5db9). It was a poem written for someone special that had a huge impact on my life. I hope you enjoy reading it.

 

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