Page 11 - Musings From Pandemic

Writing for You
Up all-night writing poems for you
You’ll never see them; it’s what I do
Heartbroken, always sad, and blue
It seems I can’t quit thinking of you

Full moon coming up in the black sky
I know it’s shining down on her as I cry
Paper and a pen all that’s left with me
Wishing these words would set me free

Another sad poem they keep coming
Pen and paper thoughts keep rushing
It doesn’t matter what I ever try to do
Only thing I have left is missing you

The Muse

You’ll read them knowing they’re about you
That’s the price to pay when you’re a muse
I know it is not your fault that you inspire
You have a spark that sets the soul on fire

Know you’ll hate what I wrote about you
There’s something that won’t let me stop
Fire inside won’t stop no matter what I do
The muse is deep inside my tortured soul

I tell myself I’ll walk away; this is the day
Keep saying I know you’d want it this way
I keep trying but doesn’t matter what I do
The muse keeps rising straight out of you

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