Thursday, October 1, 2009

Winter weather, coffee good,
warms my insides like it should.
Starbucks counter near I stand,
with some money in my hand.
Quiver as my turn draws near,
cookies and muffins, I tremble with fear.
Just coffee is all I need,
my sweet tooth I shall not feed.
One minute then I'm free,
but a scone under glass my eyes do see.
Excape is useless from this crutch,
coffee and scone I love too much.

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