So I sit here barren, taking up space
Till his hands brush my neck
and his breath sweeps my face
Words take their places,
Rhythmic mayhem clears
As he pours honeyed rhymes
into my ear
He takes all control over what comes out
He may work only Tuesdays, but he does put out
He's a gluttonous fella'
when he visits I serve
Broken hearts on a platter
With a side of frayed nerves
He detests women’s issues
Scorns at sunset and stars
Sprinkles sarcasm and venom
Over lyrical parts
I offer him gifts, tell him tales, whisper lies
Threaten to outsource his ass to Channai
He only shrugs, saying “Don’t even try
Your day is Tuesday, save your threats and bribes”
I beg and I plead
to come back when I call
To help me through writing
Get over it all
But he only laughs at my foolish demands
And instead sends me drinking and riling up gents
He snacks on my credo, spits out my ideals
And till Tuesday leaves me alone with my fears
I am stuck with this bozo
Entrapped by his whim
My bohemian anguish
Is a game to him
He is lazy but brilliant
And deaf to my plight
Well, he works only Tuesdays
But tonight is the night
Masha Danevasha
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lazy-muse/
