The Muse

	Your eyes are raised to heaven
	When I’m sitting on the floor
	At your feet
	What am I for?
	Do I create
	Or just translate
	Between you
	And your mind
	The art you’ll never find
	And when your pen runs out of ink
	You’ll close the book and with me
	Leave behind your memory
	Are you brilliant?
	Are you blind?
	Would you have nothing more to say
	If I ever flew away
	In the end is it you
	Is it me
	Do I have anything?
	What am I for?
	But when I walk out that door
	Your prayers are plenty when you have
	An empty page before you
	And still I may adore you
	For you take dictation better
	Than most poets true compose
	Your lines far surpass those
	You pray for what you know will come
	Your confidence is flattering
	But still it’s quite another thing
	Compelled to inspire
	When to dream
	Is all you really understand
	The letters from your hand
	Will never quite belong to you
	And even then I only pray
	That when I leave
	You’ll softly say
	Goodbye

	Your eyes are raised to heaven
	When I' m sitting on the floor
	At your feet
	What am I for?
	Do I create
	Or just translate
	Between you
	And your mind
	The art you' ll never find
	And when your pen runs out of ink
	You' ll close the book and with me
	Leave behind your memory
	Are you brilliant?
	Are you blind?
	Would you have nothing more to say
	If I ever flew away
	In the end is it you
	Is it me
	Do I have anything?
	What am I for?
	But when I walk out that door
	Your prayers are plenty when you have
	An empty page before you
	And still I may adore you
	For you take dictation better
	Than most poets true compose
	Your lines far surpass those
	You pray for what you know will come
	Your confidence is flattering
	But still it' s quite another thing
	Compelled to inspire
	When to dream
	Is all you really understand
	The letters from your hand
	Will never quite belong to you
	And even then I only pray
	That when I leave
	You' ll softly say
	Goodbye