ronk54 [famiglia]

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