The Price of Letting Go

In a coffee shop, with steam rising slow,

my grip on old grudges feels heavier, though.

I overhear kindness, soft words float and curl,

a woman forgives, and I feel my heart whirl.

Tears glisten like sugar on burnt, bitter grounds,

letting go of the weight, as the coffee cools down.

A cup that once warmed, now cracks in my hands,

what’s the cost of the quiet when understanding stands?

I wish I could sip from that cup, sweet and whole,

but here in the silence, I wonder, what toll?

For forgiveness is fragile, a soft velvet thread,

it might cost me my peace, and yet, I move ahead.