Cupful of Eyes

Filter your designation
good tea is a good song
sips of the blackest tea
we're friends with coffee
float to our destination
good tea is brewed too long
young and old, deepest sea
wild cars are set free

Three doors and tree floors
and I'm sitting on a lonely chair
wild cars wheeze, drivers' hair
suffocating youth, dissipating air

The spirit of the outside air
going through a life, now fair
the beating heart's lair
with a caffeinated pair

They flew in
through the open windows

The world speaks of war
and the mountains' daily roar
as I sit in the coffee house
all the chirps in a blouse
the windows are my earthly eyes

a filter from the outward lies
a coffee house with blood outside
and the cups we laid out, lied.