My muse today is on the lash
And talking proper tripe
He’s on the rum without a splash
And seriously ripe
He filled my chapter nine with c**p
And vomited some verse
He’s really riding for a slap
Or something rather worse
My muse is one who rides his luck
As bad as he can be
Why is my muse a useless *BLEEP*?
Maybe because he’s me…
My Muse
We’ve got to cut our muses some slack. Because what if they get fed up and leave?
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