...My Muse...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Any writer has had troubles with this.

Submitted: November 02, 2011

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Submitted: November 02, 2011



My Muse


It seems I’ve lost my muse of late, a fickle, flighty, little bitch.

She comes and goes, she lights the torch, then snuffs the flame she lit.

She whispers in my ear at night, sweet poetry she sings.

Yet when I go to write it down, I can’t write down a thing.


My fickle mistress muse be damned, I’ll get this whole thing right.

She can’t always escape my hand; I’ve clipped her wings tonight.

So flap your wings, it’s pointless now, the grace of flight is gone.

Your musings will be mine tonight, so sing me all your songs.


You sadden me you sultry minx, I’ve realized one thing.

You’ve worked your magic once again, a sullen song you sing.

See I’ve come to see that special things are a rarity indeed.

For nailed down, this muse of mine is an imprisoned, hopeless dream.

© Copyright 2018 Ezekial Danger. All rights reserved.

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