How the artist
Longs to be the muse
How the therapists
Would stop the abuse
Humans, born into two
Either to understand
Or to be understood
What a tragedy, a ruse
For a human to be born
In the former, just to amuse
For the artist to make art
And hope for once they'd be the muse.
- do I not deserve the poems I write to be written to me?
YOU ARE READING
High on Nicotine ~poetry~
PoetryPoetry, and perhaps even a playlist A Song to go with each poem. I would love it if you left a comment!
