Four men holding four dogs on a leash
Walking in slow pace across the school yard
The coffee is bitter and creamy
I remember when I was very young
I asked my cousin, who was in high school
“Why do you drink this thing? It’s bitter!”
I have forgotten his answer, mustn’t be a remarkable one
But that was my first taste of coffee
Bitter, infused with my hatred.
Now before I sleep
I think about the creamy bitter coffee that I will drink tomorrow
And
It brings me joy
Almost the same as a large taffy
Will send the Eight-year-old me to the clouds
I close my eyes and wonder
What tomorrow will bring.
It is curious about the things I used to mock
I don’t know if I have become a hypocrite
Or becoming a man, while losing his child.
