the muse apprentice guild
--expanding the canon into the 21st century



I glare at her,

this person that is me but older.

I quickly jerk my head away

so weakness hides and I seem bolder.

I scoff at her,

this person that is me but nervous.

I quickly move my hand away

so tapping stops and I have purpose.

I yell at her,

this person that is me but weary.

I quickly wipe my frown away

so effort fades and I start daring.

I talk to her,

this person that is me but dying.

I quickly tear my pride away

so truth prevails and I stop lying.



The constant excuses are like

soapy water twirling down the drain.

I have become deaf and am too lazy to lipread.

Your poor posture makes you transparent;

it matches your words intermingled with subtractions.

Your smile is carved

underneath a permanent frown.

Although you wish for condolences

spread on your toast every morning,

your words have turned to mould.

Write it all in a letter.

Iíll supply the paper.

Give yourself the gift of a lighter mind.