The Muse Blues

The Muse Blues

The muse has gone on strike my friend

the demand on her too great

to expect new poems every day

inspiration served at an unfair rate

She needs a mental holiday

a time to rest and play

dont fear, she’ll come back our way

and then we’ll know what to say

Until then we jerk along the road

attempting it on our own

like a drunk whose nerves corrode

our words sink like stone

Fear not, she will come back

Like soft rain drops in the spring

bringing life to minds gone slack

inspiration to those who dream

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