Morning Brew

The rooster calls, the sun's still shy. Steam's rising slow from my old

tin cup. Black as the dirt, rich as the sky.

Each sip pulls me closer to waking up. The porch creaks soft beneath my

chair. Just me and the dawn. No one else there.

Oh, this morning brew, it's my saving grace. A little bit

bitter, but it warms my face. Each drop a story,

each gulp a song. Keeps my heart steady as the day rolls on.

Oh, this morning brew, it's my start, my truth. Keeps me grounded,