A Poets Lost Muse
A POET LOST MUSE . . .
A poet ponders on his lost muse
Yet with his pen on her did abuse
Now he looks upon a pen forlorn
And at the door of his muse gone
Why he afflicted such cruel words
That stung a heart with such hurts
Then expect her love to still stand
A kitchen bare now left unmanned
A bed empty - lies now in disarray
In your mind your words do weigh
One moments anger words let slip
Knowledge love - least unequipped
The then forlorn pen - starts to ink
Reminds before you write to think
A Life time left for you - to repent
Writing of a lost love time is spent
A pain only upon yourself afflicted
That really this pain was predicted
So we can read the sorrow you felt
With pain you so deliberately dealt
Indiana Shaw . . . -_-
Copyright © Indiana Shaw | Year Posted 2017
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