Covered in grease, she walked down the aisle,
that brown-haired girl who had such style.
Coffee in hand, she hummed all the while.
And poured with a smile, poured with a smile.
He sat alone and asked for some cream,
that dark-skinned man who'd lost all his steam
just fighting for his right to redeem
the American dream, the American dream.
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Monday, August 23, 2010
...with a smile
Labels:
American dream,
coffee,
poetry,
rights,
waitress
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