When Hemingway writes
coffee
but doesn’t really
write about coffee
I crave it
Taste it
I smell it’s sorrow
And pour a cup
As the morning becomes I
And I the morning’s passing
When Hemingway writes
coffee
but doesn’t really
write about coffee
I crave it
Taste it
I smell it’s sorrow
And pour a cup
As the morning becomes I
And I the morning’s passing
Words Of An Average White Male 
I really like this, great work.
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Ah! This is much appreciated coming from you sir. Thank you. Here’s to the next.
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You’re welcome. I don’t comment often, but I enjoy your work.
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When you write coffee now it’s all I want
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