I’m tired and I just can’t stop yawning
It’s stupid o’clock in the bloody morning
We will just have to wait and see
If it’s too late to be writing poetry?
I really need some divine intervention
perhaps an elixir of lyrical inspiration
I drifted and snoozed and finally slumped
and only woke when my head got bumped!
Perhaps a surgeon would do instead
To remove this keyboard from my head
January 2017
Poetry, your therapeutic hobby
You rest within it just like a hotel lobby
Poetry, your lyrical inspiration
It releases hot air out of your body like perspiration
Poetry, where none of your feelings or words could be silenced
It's you and your thoughts, just utter silence
Poetry, your passion, your life
Poetry, forever it will thrive
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