Lost Muse

A poet needs a muse, and without one, in the short term, one can draw upon the loss and anguish as an inspiration, but after a while, it is more difficult. I lost my muse, my inspiration, I wish it could change but apparently it can not be so. Sunsets and full moons, rolling landscapes, family and friends, can only deal so many hands as a contribution for a poet. A muse is an irreplaceable gap. I have taught myself to be strong in the past, and I will do the same in the future, but it does not stop me missing the challenge to impress the one person you wish to impress most of all. I miss you, I will not be the same, but perhaps I will be different in another way.