April 21, 2011 Leave a comment
Going through the same routine over . . . and . . . over,
Lotsa laugh, here and there.
Giggles and chuckles, there were.
Never heard the drums beating in my head,
like it used to.
Hoping inspiration would pass by me
Or maybe my muse would awake from its slumber
Sing to me, Muse
Strum your harp or something
to get my gears turning