The Fix

That one thing that many people need to get through a workday.

People all around and all about, 

they're here for caffeine and there's no doubt. 

Walking in like dead corpses, no sign of life. 

As if the whole town was stricken down with some sort of rife.

Soon they receive that fix they've longed for.

Walking in dead, now running out the door. 

They've got people to see and things to do. 

A full day of work, thank goodness for their brew. 

Coffee to the rescue of their once tired soul, 
just getting through the morning is their only goal. 

It's now late afternoon and they feel quite weary, 

Yawn after yawn now eyes grow teary. 

That afternoon fix in which they implore. 

Now running through that once walked through door. 

Coffee is downed with not a minute to waste. 

Drunken so fast, do they even mind of its taste? 

Back to work they go to finish the day. 

How long will they last till they're back on their way? 

A routine in which so many people follow. 

Without that sweet pickup, their workday would be hollow. 

 

Author's Note

Wrote this while sitting in a coffee shop. On the spot while observing the activity of all around.

Reviews

[Chicavida]

Hi, I had to create an account just to be able to write a review. I really enjoyed The fix, I can't believe you wore it on the spot. I can totally relate to it and I like how you found the words to make it rhyme. I liked the flow of this poem, easy to follow.

[Gee]

Yeahhh, coffee. Need two cups at least first thing. Enjoyed the read