Lately
I think my muse
Is amused by me
I’m confused
Is she tired of being
Misused by me?
Writing only what glorifies my skill
Skipping the substance
And removing what’s real
She whispers
“Write something
So someone can be healed”
But instead I pander
With topics that have
A popular appeal
Sick of the fake
She escapes
Without notice
Just slipping away
Without a trace
Ignoring my invitation
To meet in my imagination
So I may sneak a kiss
Of her sweet inspiration
I know that
She won’t forever say no
Eventually she will come back
And the creativity will again flow
So
That’s why I’ve opened up
Every window
To my soul
I’ve opened the door
To my mind
Hoping that she knocks
But guess who is standing there
…I’m not shocked…
It’s my old familiar foe
Writer’s Block
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC
Lately
I think my muse
Is amused by me
I’m confused
Is she tired of being
Misused by me?
Writing only what glorifies my skill
Skipping the substance
And removing what’s real
She whispers
“Write something
So someone can be healed”
But instead I pander
With topics that have
A popular appeal
Sick of the fake
She escapes
Without notice
Just slipping away
Without a trace
Ignoring my invitation
To meet in my imagination
So I may sneak a kiss
Of her sweet inspiration
I know that
She won’t forever say no
Eventually she will come back
And the creativity will again flow
So
That’s why I’ve opened up
Every window
To my soul
I’ve opened the door
To my mind
Hoping that she knocks
But guess who is standing there
…I’m not shocked…
It’s my old familiar foe
Writer’s Block
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