Outside in the wintery mix,
Flurrying snowflakes fall to the ground.
When you open the doors,
Heat hits your face,
While the smell of fresh grounds,
Invades your nose.
The cushiony chairs throughout the room,
Welcome you as though,
You’re in your very own home.
Walking in the Wi-Fi connects,
Apples are placed on the desks.
Fellow classmates fill the empty spaces,
Furrowed brows with focused faces.
Order a cup or two or three,
There will never be enough,
The steam from the cup,
Warms your senses,
The smell of pumpkin spice,
Drifts from your mug.
At this point,
You don’t even need it,
The caffeine doesn’t affect you,
You just drink it to fit in,
With the fellow zombies around you.
You drink it for the taste,
You drink it for the aesthetic,
You drink it because it’s become a bad habit.
Are your only escape.
They consume your everyday life,
But you’re still counting down the days,
Until the calendar marks the next,
My Joie de Vivre,
You guessed it,
Also, if you think this poem,
Is just like the last one,
You caught me.
– uninspired, but inspired
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