Can you laugh with this clown
without grease paint or floppy shoes?
Then cry through all the pages
from pain within my muse.
Prance with me, past grave stones tipped
within a poets mind.
Sing with me those soulful tunes
through ghetto's alley grime..
Will you cover your eyes in shame
when nasty Ms. Sadie grinds?
Will you shun me for naughty inttentions
when passion does nibble and bite.
Don't be scared or shame or fear,
just stay real close to me.
I'll lend you through all muse a brew
past lands you never been too.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Muse Rambles On
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
Love it...Our muse comes from just about anywhere or anything that cathces our eye... :)
Ah, yes, you do travel the the three rings with a way to draw even the crowd into performance.
wonderful.
s
Post a Comment