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Before My Coffee Turns Cold

I want to watch the sky blush as the first ray of sunlight plants her a kiss,

I want to feel the sea caressing my feet, I want to soak in the salt-air and the bliss

I want to make memories of dancing with the downpour, which, gazing at the rainbow, I can later reminisce

I want to savour every sip, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to unravel the world, to explore mystical lands

I want to wind my way through suburbs and streets, till I know 'em like the palms of my hands

I want to leave behind footprints before waves of Time can wash away the sands

I want to relish its bittersweet-ness, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to lose myself in the markets, and buy every trinket that catches my eye

I want to read books that bring me a smile, listen to music that makes me cry

I want to gift myself moments as magical as fireflies against the serene night sky.

I want to feel the warmth of my cup, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to feel those pangs of fear and despair that fill the void when loved ones depart

I want to sense the ecstasy of rekindling old passions, rediscovering lost pieces of my heart

I want to make mistakes, crumble, pause, get back on my feet and restart

I want to wipe away spilled drops, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to fall in love, to soar to the skies with my feet on the ground 

I want to discover the excitement of finding love and of being found

I want to be enchanted by his eyes, mesmerised as the beats of his heart resound 

I want to revel in its magical taste, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to light up some lives, and wipe away someone's tears

I want to conquer every tunnel where I was lost, I want to outgrow each of my fears

I want to strum the strings of kindness loud enough to be heard by hearts, not just ears

I want to share a sip with the world, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to look into the mirror, one day, and witness a heart of gold

I want to paint my vision; voice my buried songs and tales untold

I want to narrate to my grandkids, stories of a life truly lived when I'm feeble and old

I want to make the most of each drop, before my coffee turns cold.


I want to make the most of each drop,

before my coffee turns cold.



The Tranquill Poet 🤍


P.S. : 
Read the sequel here : After My Coffee Turned Cold

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