04-17-2019, 12:30 PM
The Coffee Sweats
The coffee sweats, you know the ones, inside
my guts are moaning for a glass of cold
refreshing water, but I got to ride
the caffine high, awaiting to be told
my seventh cup is shaking in my hand;
pretending puddles aren't on the floor,
my voice too loud and fast to understand
that cream and sugar watch, and can't ignore
how yellowed teeth are really crying out
for floss and paste, afraid the dentist chair
will bring a wrath that is without a doubt
the last insult against a tired stare.
But then, by four A.M., I lie awake,
and wish to give my life for sleep to take.
The coffee sweats, you know the ones, inside
my guts are moaning for a glass of cold
refreshing water, but I got to ride
the caffine high, awaiting to be told
my seventh cup is shaking in my hand;
pretending puddles aren't on the floor,
my voice too loud and fast to understand
that cream and sugar watch, and can't ignore
how yellowed teeth are really crying out
for floss and paste, afraid the dentist chair
will bring a wrath that is without a doubt
the last insult against a tired stare.
But then, by four A.M., I lie awake,
and wish to give my life for sleep to take.
Time is the best editor.