I know that I should write for me,
I know it's my best chance.
But only when I have a muse
does my mind wake and dance.
The muse makes words pour out of me,
a spigot on full blast -
a flow not slowing from its start
until it's done at last.
The trouble with a muse, of course,
is she's not eas'ly found,
and waiting, hoping, she'll arrive
keeps my feet on the ground.
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