Over The Hill

by jaybird1

My muse just up and left me,
didn't even say goodbye.
I sit amid'st my darkness,
devoid of tears to cry.

I had it until recently,
had all my words in play
and now my mind is in a funk,
I don't know what to say.

I'm hopeful it will soon return,
but doubtful that it will.
It thinks of me as all washed up,
a poet, over the hill.

Perhaps, I've reached the apex
of what was my greatest thrill.
That leaves me with this sad, sad choice-
Just get on down that hill.

But, if perchance you spot it
please send it home to me.
I'm sure you would not want it,
it holds no high degree.

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My Muse writing prompt entry

Writing Prompt
Write a poem, any length, about your muse. Who or what inspires you to write?

Recognized

Perhaps, I could borrow yours

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