When Muses Die

We buried a muse the other day

For a poet laid down his quill

He said he'd never write again

For he simply refused to feel

Muses came from miles around

To tell their friend goodbye

Inspiration was everywhere

You should have heard them cry

They buried her in a special place

Up on Inspiration Hill

Paper flowers covered her grave

Her tombstone, the poet's quill

No one knows where muses go

When poets refuse to write

Maybe they simply disappear

Or maybe follow the light

The next time you get your writer's block

And you're feeling empty inside

Your inspiration has gone to a funeral

For another muse has died

Reviews

[Thomas Fitzgerald]

A terribly eccentirc piece that lends to the perfection in which you write, well done, good read.

[G!o]

Wow this is so amazing on a such an odd and interesting subject...writer's block. My muse sort of got drunk and can't seem to get over the hangover...lovely piece.

[MandaBear]

Very interesting. Well written

[olla]

oh this is very good.. well written and the content is wonderful.. thank you..

[Aly Jones]

Wow, just wow. This is so powerful, and it really makes you think.

[Nyx]

Interesting subject matter! Kudos!

[emman]

Nice poem!

[just is]

This is amazing whiskurz

[The White Wolf]

The muse is dead, long live the muse!

[Renée]

Again Well Done Whiskurz !