Coffee wafts and attacks my nose as I type on my computer,
The bustling crowd come in and settle down with their drinks,
Reading their books and fiddling with their pens and paper,
Some are students, some are parents, some are broke and in despair,
But at the end of the day,
We all appear the same,
Our heads louder than our voices.
YOU ARE READING
Bruised
Poetry"You poisoned me with your potion, Hexed me with your love and devotion. Now I lay in pieces, broken and brittle." Bruised is a poetry collection for the broken hearts and disappointed souls. It speaks words of wisdom, words of pain, and words of ad...
