(This piece is about my crave for a muse at a time when I just couldn’t write regardless how hard I tried. It can be easily misunderstood, but it’s what I felt, so here I share! Here is the
Does a revolution not start with a thought?
An idea? An inspiration for change?
A movement, from anger?
A feeling? An aspiration for another?
Does it not start with some sort of emotion?
Did they all who marched before you not wish too?
With little beginnings, such as I crave to feel?
Would you please? For the sake of humanity, walk forward with this?
Yes I may be fickle. Sometimes, civil, most times erratic, I know!
Would you though. Even with all of it. My flakes, notwithstanding, realize that I too, can be a challenge?
Does every moment not start with those?
Challenges on those roads. Blocks. Not much different from this head of mine.
Would you then, please? Though it likely will not last. Realize, that I too, can be charity?
Let’s do it. Even for a minute.
You be the muse I fall hair over toes with.
You be the coffee that is too tasty to NOT drink.
We can have something dangerously conniving.
Manipulative love sort of ish.
&*ck it, I’m begging!
Let’s do it.
Even for a minute.
I can write all about our love that could have withstood it all,
But in the end never did.
And I’d reminisce every now and again about you and me
And the love we had
And that, should give me hundreds of stanzas!
So, make me it.
And you, the Selfish Inattentive Bastard who never did deserve Charity anyway.
Let’s do it.