This was a poem dedicated to me by Naresh , my colleague. There it was - An empty cup of steaming foam Today I’ll tell you what I have had enough It’s something that has made me assume I’m tough In mysterious ways it has worked on my nerves As a hot beverage that’s poured in a cup of curves At times, it’s nothing less than boiling wine For the taste and texture are just fine Too late to regret as it’s gone in my DNA….or deeper I’ve found that I’m no longer a great sleeper Now watch it well, if you ask me what it was called I’ll spill it on your head and make you bald I was never too close to mention about the damned drink It’s a coffee, made to lift you and not sink This is my first poem and is dedicated to an ardent coffee lover who was a coffee bean herself in her past life. It’s none other than Am Ma’m.
Random rants and ramblings. My schemes and dreams, life, etc.