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When a poem's right here
You cannot find your tablet
As you drink coffee
And smoke your bad habit
You search for your backpack
Throughout these rooms
Coffee getting cold
CNN booms
On the TV
Dogs barking outside
Life awaits me
And I'd rather ride
On what attacks my mind
Before I lose the thought
My tablet I find
But the poem is caught
Tucked away behind a door
Laying there on an oak table
No longer in store
As my pen wasn't able
To find it's mate
Paper of white
Now it's too late
That one poem closed tight.

1/28/2009 1630 cj

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