At the Coffee House
Published in
1 min readJan 2, 2017
The coffee house is where I stand,
Stirring tea with a silver spoon,
Listening to a stout man,
Lousily playing a bassoon.
Fly away did the swarm doves,
‘Cause it is such a shame,
I’ll walk away slipping on my gloves,
As the building burst in flame.