Where Did You Come From
Poems come at me silly
Making me giggle
When their punch lines jump up
And tickle my brain
Where did you come from? I think
But my muse is not a talker
An instigator, sure, for here is the next one.
Prancing past, practically flying.
I have to jump six feet in the air to catch it.
However, I miss it
And she laughs.
Damned crazy muse!
Third one of the day.
Morose and sad; despondent.
Depressed, angry, sluggish.
I leave this one alone
Not wanting to change my mood yet.
Or maybe ever.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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