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The Muse Is Gone

Rating: 4.0

The muse is gone, she left in the night,
Taking my creativity with her.
Packing up my words, and the color of my thots,
Then stealing away without a sound,
Or even a note.

I sit anxiously waiting for her return,
Staring at the blank page in front of me.
Pen in hand I doodle my name on the paper,
Filling the page with little swirls and flowers,

and boxes and faces.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
allan james saywell 17 August 2005

LONG LIVE THE MUSE HE WILL RETURN WITH A VENGENCE YOU WILL WRITE AGAIN ABOUT FLOWERS DAYBREAKS AND GREAT LAKES BUT SMILE YOU HAVE EIGHT POETRY BLOB

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