Chasing Echoes

The voices all go mute
And don’t wrap up in rhymes the way they used to
And I try and I try but I get all confused
Like a piece of sky that’s forgotten it’s blue

I don’t want to assume
It’s my God-given right to be loved by my muse
Sometimes she whispers sweet, distant meet-cutes
And I’m left chasing echoes in small, empty rooms

Photo by Hans Eiskonen on Unsplash

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