My morning cup of coffee
On the table of displacement
I taste the bitterness of life
And live the dark and terrible nights
I watch the violent storm inside
Eradicating my tent so far
And the dogs attack my innocent children.
I see the world as a foam
Cover the heinous crimes
While we are drowning so deep.
I smell the scent of blood
With every sip of my cup
And I see the faces of the children
Who immersed in their blood.
After awhile,
I woke up while I’m absent-minded sitting
On the table of displacement
Gazing inside my coffee
And listening to the silence of the the world.
