The Day the Coffee Fought Back

I woke up late, the alarm didn’t sing,

Stumbled through life on a tangled string.

Socks didn’t match, but who really cares?

They’ll be hidden beneath the day’s stares.

The coffee pot sputtered, growled like a bear,

Spilling its rage on the kitchenware.

I fought it with courage, I fought it with pride,

Till it burned my hand and my patience died.

Out the door, I tripped on the mat,

The cat just watched like, “Good luck with that.”

Traffic piled up like a bad surprise,

Cars honking symphonies, stress on the rise.

I sat at my desk, but forgot the file—

My boss’s face stretched into a mile.

“I’ll email it soon,” I said with a grin,

While inside I screamed, “What mess am I in?”

The printer jammed, the Wi-Fi was down,

Every task turned me into a clown.

And the lunch I packed? Oh, of course I forgot,

Now I’m left with vending machine tots.

But hey, there’s humor in this daily grind,

A cosmic joke we’re all assigned.

The coffee will spill, the traffic will jam,

But at least I’ll laugh at how absurd I am.

So here’s to the chaos, the stumbles, the cracks,

The life that throws curveballs and rarely tracks.

Because in the end, when the day is through,

I’ll laugh it off—and so will you.