Master of None:
To be Jack of all trades
But a master of none,
As my memory fades
Still, some do come.
To be master of one
Like poetry or art,
And know how it's done
Is love from the heart.
As I stare at the wall
Shall inspiration turn up?
Does my muse hear me call
Will she fill up my cup?
So I wait patiently
Just for one drop,
As she sits next to me
Now I can't stop.
My pen running wild
catching all of my thoughts,
Feel like a new born child
But still out of sorts.
Will this be as brief
As I believe it will?
At least now I have relief
She did return to fill.
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