One comment

  1. I used to sit here in my corner, no
    My very own breakfast nook, that's what they call it
    My very own sun shining in slits across the hardwood strips
    My very own dancing dust, lit up by its glowing countenance
    My very own guest on this very happy morning

    I used to drink in small cups, on porcelain platters
    Sipping gaily, forcing the bitterness down as I told myself
    My very own breakfast nook

    Then larger, as I began to visit less
    My very own breakfast nook, my very own guest
    More and more I drank
    Less and less did I sit and think

    As the years went by and children showed up,
    I ran around the world with a porcelain coffe cup
    Tied around my wrist
    Ever bearing greater weight on my older arms

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