Posted in English Poetry

The Muse

Painting by Peter Wilhelmllsted

She left the room with a post card
Her blouse had dust and rust
Neck gleaming in sweat and regret
She walked like a silhouette discharged

Earlier she was a muse
To a man in peculiar hues
They drank poetry and blues
And slept in a treacherous bruise

She woke up to hunger
Her eyes saw another four pairs
They were small and their cries scares
She must plunder

She left the room with a postcard
Steps evenly strapped
Her mind still cramped
It looked hard and beyond

She, A muse
Card, Had many dues

Author:

Actor:Author:Blogger:TelevisionHost:Woman. ❤

8 thoughts on “The Muse

  1. I like the way you portray the lady….the way you conveyed the story….and for it seem so realsitic
    to me that I visualised it. liked it a lot. wishing you to pen more…poetries.

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