I'll drink iced apple tea
Instead of the dreaded, bitter syrup
Concocted from coffee berries and seeds
That has appeared to steal
Lives.
My housemates are a blur of
Nonchalant chatter,
Their eyes a globe of
Dangerous, scarlet veins.
I fear them.
I fear their sweet, aromatic breaths
As they whisper
Urge me to try just a
Sip.
But I know of
The dreaded caffeine:
The agent of addiction,
The one factor that binds them
To a horrid cycle of
Wasted nights and
Unproductive chatter.
They'll always appear like zombies
But in clear daylight,
Their voices a blur of
Exhausted slurs and nonsense.
We were never meant to stay up
Twenty four hours a day.
Calmly,
From the edge of my seat,
I sip my iced apple tea
As I watch their own
Self-destruction.
YOU ARE READING
Bittersweet | #Wattys2016
PoetryPoems aren't just meant to be read; they're meant to be tasted too. A short compilation of food-themed poetry; roughly around thirty in total. Anyone ready for their meal of a lifetime? :)
