Oh Strada,

How do I express my love for thee?

Your coffee, so strong.

Your location, so prime.

I remember that fateful summer day.

The skies were blue and the coffee was black.

I basked in the sun and studied for a French quiz.

Je suis tombé amoureuse de toi ce jour-là.

You’re up so early, you’re up so late.

Countless hours I’ve spent.

Countless dollars I’ve spent.

All worth it.

Your bathroom, a cruel torment.

Like really, how many gallons of water reside on that floor?

Why does that smell never go away?

And I know that other stall isn’t “Out of Service.”

 
Alas, nothing is perfect.