O Barista, Barista! Wherefore art thou Barista?

Please don't deny me coffee and tell me your name.

If thou think I'm too creepy, you can send me away,

And I can find my daily caffeine in a different way.

But then, he doth appear, in his green smock glory,

Thy presence at once calms my fears,

Tonight, I shall have coffee instead of withdrawal tears.

Thou inquire what beverage will be my medication of choice,

And methinks to myself, quickly meditating on this night-altering question.

If I request a frappuccino, I would experience a sugar crash

Alas, with too much to do, I cannot afford that.

Or what of a latte? Just milk and espresso?

I shake my head sadly; for the correct answer is one that I already know.

If coffee be the drink of survival, drink and caffeine on,

So I say to the barista, striking my "Does thou thinkst me funny?" pose,

"Please give me a venti coffee, black like my soul,"

Instantly, from behind me, several groans did arse.

Methinks I am funny; methinks I'm a hoot,

But the overworked barista just wants me to scoot.

I meander over to the group of the stressed-infused students,

Who whisper about what grade they must make on the final exam,

They've calculated how long they must study;

Or in most cases, cram.

Is this my coffee that I see before me,

The cup with my name spelled wrong? Come, let me see thee.

Well, thou art not mine, and methinks it an honest mistake,

But that other student protested, "Thief! Don't you take!"

Then, my butchered name is cried out, to the counter I go,

Making a mental note to tell that student to jump in a lake.

But, soft! What light through yonder book stacks break?

It is the east, and coffee is the sun.

Away, beautiful cup, and let us go begin to study,

For my professors delight in my momentous work load,

But thou art far more fair than any of them, delicious buddy.

Come, caffeine; come, coffee; come, thou beacon of light;

For I needest thou most in the depths of the night

When thou bringest me fresh thoughts, cohesive or not.

And I shall make my scantron tomorrow look so fine

That all my professor will be able to do is cry,

And bestow on me a hundred, or at least a ninety-nine.

The nature of our relationship, is harmful at best,

Because, I need thee, but with me, you are unimpressed.

By allowing me thy energizing strength, in ever increasing doses,

(the prices of which give me a shortness of breath)

So that, the more I drink you, the more I need you,

Thou wonderful, terrible cup o' death.

Without fail I find your actions are distant and lofty,

Because you never seem to need me, O cup of coffee.

Most likely because thou art not a living being,

Even though often times, when we are together

I try to converse with thee, because it is so late in the evening.

To caffeinate, or not to caffeinate: that is the question;

Whether 'tis better to finish my homework and go to SI sessions,

That my professors seem to delight in throwing upon me,

Do they not know I have a social life to keep?

Perhaps I should fight back against their seas of papers and projects,

And by my refusal, be failed by them? Oh, but to nap, - to sleep.

O, look! Methinks I see that the Starbucks line has lessened,

Coffee, thy never ending hold on me should probably be examined.

I hear thee now, calling me back, because you know I am weak

But who cares, I know I shall never be free

Upon that note, I shall go: stay short, line, stay!

Coffee, I come! And I shall drink more of thee!