Tuesday, February 14, 2012

BE-MUSED


She's a small voice residing in my soul
Who relentlessly wheedles, begs, cajoles
Forces me to write, when I want to play
To her I'm just a formless lump of clay 

ROTMS

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Those nights we spent loving will never leave me. The veils came down each time our blue eyes met. We never let ourselves drown in that pond of clear glass. It was an erratic complex time. Only the stars knew that it was temporary.
MKP