Sunday morning, chirping bird, mother made me a cup of coffee.
She wanted the plain and black, but I hated the bitter.
His firm laugh follows, Papa comes along.
He asked in his jest manner, isn’t hate a strong word?
Perhaps, A little more too much than planned.
Poured spoonful of sugar, it traced on her blue shirt.
Dusty white, Papa joked it was drug while he laughed.
It wasn’t funny for her, but the atmosphere came too late,
‘Hell, do I have to laugh at your deed?’
Perhaps, A little more too much than planned.
Thought I’d hate the taste, until it hinted a bit of a sweet,
For someone who hated caffeine, how much have I been missing out?
Don’t play along, come forth, is this what they’ve been afraid of?
Changes, from the smallest drip of this coffee that I like,
A little more too much than planned.
Morning had left, and I had nothing to look forward
Late for the bus, car was broken, times were frozen,
People were blind, unanswered calls, never to look back,
The abhorrence grows, a little annoyance to ticks on me,
‘No, don’t tell me that the day had teeth,’
It did, A little more too much than planned.
I know you too well, of where you live,
Of your house were down the street,
Of your smells tangled on my bedsheet,
Of your laughter I would play on repeat,
Of your deeds that forever on me to heed,
Of your presence as I saw you across the street.
But my jacket were tighter for you to let me in
Had you read the sign before, perhaps I’d be sinking low beneath the ground
Gasping for air, while you left me breathless and down
And all of this, so much, only to become redundant
A little more too much than planned,
And the sayings was right, I should have never taste the caffeine
Now my eyes are blinking mindlessly, staring at the ceiling
A little more too much than planned,
Take me too much for the recommendation dose,
Caught me for the blinking lights at the end of the road
2 AM of drunk thoughts and ridiculous hiccups,
I liked you,
A little more too much than planned.
