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What Need Have They

Many believe that a troubled soul
is the true muse of the true artist.
That misery and anger brings out
the words, brush strokes, of creation.

I don't know if that's right or not,
e'en though it affects me deep -
but I find it strange that most
don't ask why such may be.

The only answer I can conjure
is actually yet another question.
What do the happy have to create?
What need have they to make, to escape?

In part, I have trouble agreeing,
for I have written wonders
in times of relative ease;
or so I've been told.

I have walked gaily through spring,
and spoke of dewy fields of clover;
arbitrary, aimless, desultory subjects,
irregularly chosen by my mercurial muse.

And yet I can also see it, in part,
for my thieves of one's breath
were in times of onerous strife;
or so I've been told.

I have trudged below naught but clouds,
and spoke of grey days and black thoughts;
distressed, disheartened, dejected prose,
regularly presented to my downcast sight.

I believe emotion, good and ill,
can be victuals for the right muse.
But I concede the point that comparatively,
what have the joyous to escape, through art?


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  1. Date: 3/21/2015 7:30:00 PM

    Nice write makes you wonder well done Alfredo.