The aroma of freshly brewed coffee,
Cloud of the vapor rising from the cup.
Visible against the morning sunlight-
entrant thru’ a recently opened window.
Someone died yester night, not sudden;
Someone, I knew, never understood.
Death brings comfort like no life ever would.
I can now finally cremate you-
My childhood; put a poem on your grave.
‘the coffee’ has gone cold, the aroma-
has drowned, I always drink it cold.
‘you were true, but, not truth’
-that’s all the poem I could write for you.