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In Need For a New Muse
I was talking to this boy one day,
When he asked me how I was doing;
I know it is wrong to open up to a stranger,
But i know I wasn't planning to meet this stranger.
I thought for a moment,
Thinking of a reply,
Thinking about all my poems,
About how they were about all guys.
All these poems were old,
All these poems were dead,
There wasn't anything in these
That are now truly unsaid.
I started typing to him,
Telling him I was in need for a new muse,
I don't think I'll tell him the truth,
But once he reads this, he'll know
That maybe he's my new muse.
