The words have numbered ten thousand,
Deep secrets poured in every line,
Each thick with meaning, prose and rhyme.
Tell me, Muse, did you understand?

My silent voice pens the imperfect word,
My feelings disguised in my allusions,
This meager poet writes to illusions.
Tell me, Muse, whether my message was heard?

My shame permits only poems disguised,
My heart seeks safety by speaking in code,
Fear of rejection if true feeling showed.
Tell me, Muse, was love for you realized?

So many poems, each one has been true,
The literal is too scary to write,
I express love with clarity of night.
Tell me, Muse, did you know ‘twas about you?