Pen pressed to the silent
Parchment of your life.
You try to become relaxed,
Yet all you feel is strife.
This deity of a pen
Keeps its omnipotence at bay.
So many thoughts go through your mind,
Yet you find nothing to say.
You look around
For something near to inspire.
Yet nothing seems to work,
Nothing kindles that fire.
You will it to move,
Yet you realize it's no use.
Someone broke into your soul
And took only your muse.
A contest entry
- Give me Everything you've Got by CrystalJet.
600 points, ended March 14, 2008, 318 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Underneath it all... (are you my muse?) by DefinitiveFreak.
525 points, ended March 18, 2008, 12 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I love this. I have written many poems on the elusive muse...where are they when you need them? I really like the last two lines. Well done.
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