Following the road map of the state I'm in,
my cards already on the table, empty coffee cup
holding the dregs of my dreams, dreams where I'm
born in the wrong place and time. I should be
savoring café au lait on a boulevard in the 6th,
Francoise Hardy in the ears of my youth, the little
sparrow now when there are regrets that I also
seek to deny. Excess caffeine and my daily rituals
sustain me, bitterness mingled with the heart-
pumping dawn of each new day. I only regret
that I have never lived in Paris where my dreams
tell me I belong. A life of "if only." Time spent
mapping out everyday reality rather than
following a dream.
This very preliminary draft was inspired by prompts from Miz Quickly to write about a favorite vice (coffee addiction, I'm looking at you) and from NaPoWriMo to write an American sonnet. Once again, I plan to return to these prompts later to give them the time they deserve.
the raven's eye 
Both coffee and what-if are close to my heart. Can’t have much coffee.
There’s a book (there’s always a book) The Midnight Library. The regretful protag goes at the moment before death to a library in which every past choice and every ramification from change is its own book. The much more entertaining “Extraordinary” TV series takes its character to a library of her regrets.
I have never lived in Paris where my dreams
tell me I belong. A life of “if only.” Time spent
mapping out everyday reality rather than
following a dream. I can relate (This poem works well with today’s prompt I think – absent mind.)