MEDIUM: Acrylic on canvas

The Pumpkin spice at Starbucks frowns at the espresso that the Barista serving the mad artist poured. Virgins were all around and yet the flag had been raised. Pride swelled up the chest of the brother that fed, the mother that cried and the Barista that knew a madman could not lie. Then was the serenity. A day where no man was mad, no barista was frowning. The day where we all sat around a table, drinking coffee, talking about the beautiful weather, and peace in our times. What a day would it be!