I’m sorry I’m not your cup of tea.
I’m not the girl who basks in glory
Over make ups and filtered selfies,
Over feeding your hungry ego so you will like me.
I’m sorry if you think that the trend I follow
Is to go for boys who are shallow
Those whose pride they never swallow
And those who just sit and wallow.
Don’t think for a second that we’re meant to be
See, you’re not my cup of tea.
Like a stamp
It sticks and stays
It lingers in my coffee cup.
My femininity, embeded
A mark of my presence
Shades of pink, purple, burgundy, black, nude, and red
Shows my mood.
Each mark left behind,
Is a mark of excellence
Roasty and strong
Sometimes lighter, for sure you can’t go wrong
Inhale the aroma
The sweet taste of morning
Fills you with such joy so warming
A cup or mug on hand to start the day
That’s how mornings are done, my way
Where’s the coffee?
Why not in my coffee cup?
I drank the lot and realized it wasn’t coffee
My coffee, where is it?
And I didn’t mind anything else
I’m at home and need nothing else
The coffee had me,
And I didn’t want anything else
So I took the everlasting cup
As I took a sip and held it up
My life that went by, I saw
Things that I loved and regretted, all felt so raw
Each one flashed like a lightning or a page
I took it all in as I slowly saw myself grow with age
The everlasting cup I threw
Cause you see, I’d love to grow old with you
A cup of tea warms the heart
Feeds the soul and lightens the mind
Relaxes the muscles
Strengthens the bones
Reenergizes and revitalizes the memory
Calms the senses