• gerendiaz_ 26w

    Muted

    In the Autumnal stage of life I now ask
    How I not ever heard of any beatific muse able to lure
    By velvety notes on a harp that bring most men to task
    Plying us with all things amore

    As she plucks at her strings in another dimension
    I lay tone deaf in a little room outside the city
    Public scrutiny my chief source of tension
    Due to every female relationship more about amity

    By no count cotton on the facts apart from society
    And a fabled handmaiden's melodic line
    Seeing that they all have some sort of an edge on piety
    While I go on by myself just fine