Midnight Ride. Poem by dave lessard

Are you troubled, my poor heart?
then let us take a sip of wine;
and listen to the awesome blues,
and let the soul unwind.

Some B.B. King, some B.B. Bland,
and some Billie Holiday;
let the music soak in you,
it's your comfort, in a way.

Until you've finally had enough,
and you can take no more;
until the blues just chokes you,
until the pain's a G.D. chore.

Then toss the blues aside,
pour your cares right down the drain;
and punch your ticket for the ride,
on life's fast midnight train.

The train will take you up, not down,
for it's full of happy crowds;
headed straight for heaven,
once you have passed the clouds.