UnPoetia:Sonnet About Not Having a Muse

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A muse.jpg
My muse you’ve left me for another man,
Away to hell you’ve sped from mind.
I try to write and there’s nought to hand.
Come back! Not fair! You’re being unkind!
You are not here and so I moan
And moan about how you’re here no more.
A thought or idea I normally own,
You’ve always done the rest before.
Something here now I must write.
We’re nine lines in I assume you’ve returned.
Though not stopping this from being shite.
Now let's get going – you have been spurred!
And now we’re working like an ox
Ignorant of this silly paradox.