Unfinished poems left with no return, I lost the muse i need to choose. To write or not to write, that is the question. I open my bool , stare at the blank page , pencil in my hand. The muse is gone and it comes again. I continue to write despite if its good or not. Each word representing me i want to be free. Fly high in the sky when i write i don't have to lie. I'm looking for my muse and i don't want to lose. i stop for a drink and i think. I'm alone. with out my muse , what will i do....pause. I know I'm free. And I found my muse, In me.