The Coffee Cup

A coffee cup with not much luck waited by the frothing machine. 

He'd often be thinking, how nice to be drinking, 

someone from the brim of him. 

Though he never got chosen he'd sit still, frozen, 

as the Barrista's hand swept over. 

One would be selected, leaving him quite rejected, 

wondering what warm hands felt like. 

Then he'd watch as they'd fill up, the lucky chosen cup, 

with bitterly sweet coffee and foam. 

The customer would thank him, the Barrista a kind gentleman, 

would politely flash him a smile. 

At the end of the day, with not a customer to pay, 

the shop owner happily closed up. 

The coffee cup sat hopeful, dreaming only of being full, 

knowing that there would be his day. 

And in that glorious moment, when he'd surely be chosen, 

picked up and set under the machine. 

With his customer watching, he'd beam pride smiling, 

as hot water poured in to him. 

Then coffee and sugar and sweet frothy foam, 

he'd gently be given to a warm handed home.