Stout French Roast
Freshly ground
Distinct gurgling sound
Pungent aphrodisiac
Fills the morning air
Breakfast of a warrior
Riddled with despair
Time has wasted memory
Chemicals leave a blank and bloody trail
As if I were for sale
One foot planted firmly in hell
May 19th, 2010
Washington DC
Early evening flight
Above the mighty Pentagon
From the air it looks so harmless
Unassuming
Cunning lair
Fierce power lurks inside
In terrifying potions
She wonders why he broods
Portrays such melancholy gloom
Staring at the ultimate war room
Black light in a darkened chamber
He has no intentions
Of tipping his mental hand
Dear Father…..
Is help coming soon?
For I grow weak and weary
As I herald your triumphant return…..
© Bill Grimes Jr. 2010
