when my muse is not around
I stare at empty lines
no need to even pick up
pencil pen quill

take out order delivered
subdue my gnawing hunger
for words & nourishment
only stains on my notebook

stale cookie held not
promise nor fortune
I write with chopsticks
when my muse is not around






This entry was posted on in homepage and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.