Get Your Premium Membership

impromptu

the poet's mind races facing in the mirror they say my muse but even Beethoven composed him self before a mirror not believing he was deaf as all that say "my muse" isn't up to writing right at this moment but then they wait and wait for their muse to sate their lust or love or hate or any expression they wish to spit upon the page and if it isn't a rage blame it on their confused muse that had a bad day but day by day i hope and pray that i may once again see the day when i get to look face to face once again with my true muse

Copyright © | Year Posted 2020




Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.

Please Login to post a comment

Date: 2/24/2020 10:05:00 PM
I imagine there is some withdrawal after a high that high, knotted viscera and such. Same guy in the mirror?
Login to Reply
Connelly Avatar
Jeff Connelly
Date: 2/26/2020 9:01:00 AM
Thanks Maureen. No. Different guy. I even told Melissa that my life wouldn't be the same after OUR trip. But then life is changing all the time isn't it...