Sacred brown water,
Daily Water of Life,
Why do you taste so strange?

I brewed you so gently,
Just like coffee back home,
Yet your taste has changed.

Maybe it’s the water, 
Fresh from the hotel tap,
Flowing almost brown alone.

Maybe it’s the coffee,
A little single-pot bag.,
From a brand completely unknown.

Still, it’s coffee. My coffee.
It’s enough to start my day.
At last, I can remember my name..

It will get me all the way downstairs.
To cups of restaurant coffee.  
Then, I’ll be back in the game.