MY MUSES WOKE ME

 

 

My muses woke me at 5:00AM to write a short story.  I’m tired, hungover but I persist anyway.  I complete the task and realize it’s 7:00AM.  I might as well just stay up and go to work.  There’s no sense in napping for a half an hour.  No one in work will care if I’m tired or not.  They won’t give a shit if I wrote a short story or a poem.  They’ll only care if I’m able to do the work and execute the tasks at hand.

 

Muses bitching

nagging short stories to life

endlessly prodding

pushing for new creation

at any hour of day

 

 

 

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