Come back Muse

My muse has up and left with the morning breeze and I am left bereft
of pretty words and metaphors and things that aim to please those
who love to read my poetry and prose God only knows
where they will go to find their inspiration now
although I know I’m not the only game
in town and can quickly be forgotten
I have become invisible as silent
as the trees my feeling chip
has been removed
and I crave sleep
more than a
bear in
winter
like a
kite
with
cut
string
there is
nothing grounding
me anymore to this mother
earth, my body longs to feed
the worms and my soul to fly away
to wherever it belongs amidst the crowd
of drifting souls who could never reconcile being
human, a million old men in hospital beds just rolled
out and hit the floor, I want to joust windmills with Quixote
or join Walter Mitty on an ice flow in the Artic Ocean before
the North Pole melts forever, modern life bores me to death
if the truth be known and I dare not complain or harsh retribution
will find me so my spirit pines away along with my self image while I
face mediocrity that was always my biggest fear in the mirror staring me down