Her Gift
Walking in the yard
Looking at the stars one night,
Was my life wasted?
Is life just going to work?
Paying bills, sleeping,
Deep inside I know there’s more.
I went back inside,
Sit down and began to quake.
That’s when she started.
Guiding me to the keyboard,
Writing was not me.
My Muse gave me my first words.
Empowering words,
Flew from my dead fingertips,
Now I write for her,
Bringing purpose to my life,
Her gift is within my soul.
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