Black Coffee In New York Poem by Paula Glynn

Black coffee like velvet or silk,
Drains through his lips,
For he is a man of knowledge,
Watching out for thuggery and blackmail.

He lives in a dark, dark world,
Not dating a woman of the world,
A woman with many colours,
And a personality that could match.

But he is not alone, his job taking him around,
And he sips his black coffee,
The New York skyline,
Dominated by history.

The day is turning into night,
But no one sings,
Because this is a black night for him,
A night where he prays for redemption.

In the mornings, orange juice is on order,
And he has to travel by train to the border,
His soul dark and twisted,
A heart growing old and cold.

This is just one story of black coffee in New York,
Many have followed suit,
Like blackmail in a game of cards,
That teach a lesson of a life so hard.