I sometimes think it could be ADD
this thing I really know is pestering poetry
it has me by the throat; it has me by the brain
now it has me in my gut, I'll never be the same

it comes when I least expect
it comes when I really don't want it
when I'm trying to do what I do for pay
it comes along brash and undaunted

I try not to do it, truly I do
but it just spills out like an overfilled gutter
"Stop" I tell her "leave me alone.
I don't want to do this" I sputter.

she's always there, that impudent muse
teasing and taunting my head
I can't get her out, I can't shut her up
even at night when I crawl into bed

she sits on the headboard and waits
for her chance to burst into a dream
then shaking me, waking me
in the wee hours she acts out her scheme

she won't take no for an answer
"I'm sleepy" just will not do
it doesn't matter if it's three AM
or if it's barely half past two

she refuses to let me just lie there
"Don't be lazy! Get up and write it;
you know how forgetful you are.
Wake up and don't try to fight it."

There she is, that cruel taskmaster
looking down at me with a smirk
"You'll do as I say. I won't tell you again,
Now stop whining and get to work."

she insists that I follow her orders
battering my mind till it's lame
"You may only write junk; you may only
write garbage, but you'll write it just the same!"

I clench my teeth; I ball my fists
I'll show who's the stubborn one
I'll show her who's boss
before this (oh, drat, a poem) is done!