looking into my cup
of coffee this morning
reminds me of when
I, with my siblings
at a very early age,
stared into the abyss
of the world's largest
hand dug well
hoping we wouldn't
meet the same fate
of that baby that
was on television
this dark liquid with
its dark reflection
staring back at me
in its trepidation
for the next words
to spill from my mouth
for those drops the
color of abandoned
beer bottles to somehow
make it all go better
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