A Sonnet to Coffee

Let me not to the waking of true eyes
Admit impediments. Drink is not Coffee 
Which alters when it decaffination finds,
Or bends with the sugar or dairy to remove.
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on sleeplessness and is never shaken;
It is a star to every wandering Mom,
Whose sleep’s unknown, although her speed be taken.
Coffee’s not Time’s fool, though stinky diapers and midnight 
Cries within his heavenly influence come;
Coffee alters not with these brief hours and weeks
But bears it out even to the edge of kindergarten.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never slept, nor no Mom ever woke.


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