Some in the morning, strong and stern
A lifelong song, as every morn' I yearn
after duties of day, one can feel so frail
weary in mind, heart an' soul
till at last comes a sight, that frees your mind
as you see the spark of light
the home in the concrete jungle
a bastion, of life
a smell so rich of earthen might - oh how it fills the night
as I brew a cup to warm my heart, to calm my mind
and so the Cycle it rolls, with every night that goes
Till the Reaper he calls, as he claims my bones

A voluntary addiction - by Mauschiwich (Coffeenut) the caffeinated poet