Poets

Cruel

Monsters rage inside my veins

tossing pillows sleep evades

pen is hanging like a wasted limb

my muse somewhere watching

She’s a cruel mistress

can haunt me constantly

whispering, I can’t keep up

then suddenly gone

Head throbbing frantically

searching for words that don’t appear

dreaded writers block

my muse on holiday

She’s returned with a vengence

manically screaming

my pen is dancing erratically

trying to keep apace