You Part IMature

(Authors Note: Considering I wrote this to TheFutureisBright, it only seems fitting I post it here.  More to come)

You

My muse sits waiting for a reply

Prose inspires her, though she wonders why she tries

When it doesn’t make sense

 

I’ll take your heart and watch it burn

Critic of all you’ve ever learned

Cannot the one who inspired me be free to write what she loves?

 

And every night there is a cry

Must follow criticism

You want to be different?

Then ignore them

Compose, create, write what you love

I can see it in every word you type

 

You were the one to inspire me

So I create this symphony

 

You

You don’t know why you sit there

Composing things others hate

And you dislike

Lovely and hardly seeing it, you listen to unique bands, drawing your landscape of the mind.  People secretly admire you, though they don’t say it and it kills you deep inside.  Wondering if you’re mysterious and fascinating you sit with a pen in hand first, scribble down a few lines of awkward, messy prose.

 

You are the rebel without a cause and because you are, it terrifies you

Aren’t all rebels supposed to have reasons?

 No.  They rebel against the system because all art, as a beat cowboy on a motorcycle stated is a con.  JaberwockyJaberwocky!

Why is a Raven like a Writing Desk

The Raven is the muse and it sits and awaits you

Poet of confusion that you are, lovely in every syllable

Far too many thoughts>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>AHHHHLETEMSTOP

Cannot more than one way be the way of the path

Sex throughout written word, is your poetry

Rough, hard to grasp, but love fully

 

And so, muse, I await your next beautiful creation

A walking matchbox for my fire.

You think you’re a bad poet

Face it child

 

No critic of another’s written words could ever be a writer himself

This is your life, the future is bright, as you wrote

 

Gulp it in child

 

This is your calling, this is your life.

Embrace it.

The End

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