poetry, Writing

Caffeine

I’m a conflicted twisted victim.

I love your sweet kick,

Your warming embrace.

I really do, love the taste.

Of a nice cup of coffee,

Or piping hot tea.

Damn, you really got me,

This I see.

I know you are bad,

Without you I’m mad.

I must abstain.

But without, I’m far from sane.

Maybe over time I would be pleased,

To see you leave.

But I don’t know,

It will be hard to let you go.

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