Poem By Jonathan Goldman a.k.a JGthepoet
Sipping a hot drink late at night,
Ready to go to bed,
Hoping sleep’ll overtake my brain,
When on my pillow, I put my head.
Words flow fast into my head,
Why can’t my brain sleep?
Why must the thoughts I think
Be so surreal and deep?
All semblance of order passes me by,
When I think of HIS Works Divine,
Spoilt by those miscreant souls,
Whose only ideal is crime.
Calmly I assemble my other thoughts,
Pensive my brain does go,
Sipping my drink once again,
As it goes down my throat real slow.
Five minutes later I drain my glass,
Hot orange was my Nightcap,
As the end of this poem has been reached,
And there is no going back.
© Jonathan Goldman [JGthepoet] - 29 November 2005