By adelinenick from 'Mnemosyne In High School'
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Muse, I never found one like you yet,
Such a lazy bum but adored by the poet,
I wonder, how you and she met?
Sometimes ignorance is such a bliss,
However it's also an intimidating one,
Don't make her always upset, please?
You and her are a vast opposition,
Yet you are her exact whole mirror,
With the reasons she never mention.
Once, her woeful eyes narrate a story,
Exhausted yearning is a useless crave,
For you, she hides them with lies starry.
She learnt a lesson that worthful,
Memory, the mother of muses,
Torture Heart teribbely till tearful.
Her foggy, bittersweet memory,
Obvious scenes pang herself to bruises,
Dolorously written in her old diary.
She waste her time for a thousand miles,
In a holy church she willing to pray,
For longevity of her muse who smiles.
Muse, luckily you are fortunate one,
Her kindness you should pay back,
Therefore her life will turn to merry one.
Dedicated to adelinenick