Coffee

The light pours through the window

As I take the kettle from the stove

We live poor but happy

On some rundown terrace road

I poor for her her coffee

And I’m rewarded with a smile

I love to see that smile every once in a while

After all I slaved all day for the coffee on the table

She bounces the little baby in her lap

And he smiles with us

The same light shines through the window

But we’re now in a different place

Content in our moderate holding

On some quaint cobbled road

Our son has learnt to poor the coffee

And he’s rewarded with a smile

I still see that smile every once in a while

Seen as I slaved all day for the coffee on the table

She kisses the young boy on the cheek

And he smiles with us

The rain hammers the pane of the window

As the servant pulls the kettle off the stove

I never found joy in these rich surroundings

In a mansion on the hill

The servant pours her coffee slow

And she forces a smile

I never see anything but a forced smile

Even though I slaved all day for the coffee on the table

Our son is grown and departed, not that he’d

Smile with us anyway

The light pours through the window

As I take the kettle from the stove

I returned to live with my memories

On that rundown terrace road

I poor for myself my coffee

And I remember a smile

I created this story with a smile

Now I’m too old to bring coffee to the table

My son and old wife are happy, because

We smiled though we’re poor