Cold Coffee


Oiled handprints smeared on walls

Mark the places memories once stood

I forever wander through emptied halls

Trying to reach you, if only I could.


Blank counters, layered in dust

Hastily packed bags fly all too quick

Laid on the floor, our shattered bond of trust

Slowly, sinking, wasting; our love is sick.


All I see are windows broken

Their cries echoing within my ears

Alas; I spy your final token

A memory to treasure throughout the years


A cup of cold coffee

This is all I have left of you.



I really like this poem, although I feel you cut the ending a little short and you could do so much more with it. 

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