Bidding adieu to the last dregs of my over-priced coffee,
I sink to the taste of my purple days of unabashed reverie.
From those still-fresh figurines I pick bygone ghosts that haunt.
How they make my coffee more bitter, a persistent gaunt.
Even after I leave the coffee shop, the coffee mug still hot,
The aroma tugs along. The pebbles I kick down the road
Tumble along a shivery path, as shaky as my deeds.
Akin to a sinful soul that’s accustomed to passionate feed.
The rivulets of greed and guilt that ran down the same plains,
Now extinct, dry path, signatures of past like dried rains.
How pitiful, even the most intimate caresses go uncared.
Numbness overrides humanness, chastity not spared.
I burn them all down with the last dregs of my coffee.
I sink to the taste of my purple days of unabashed reverie.
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