MUSE

You've always had me at hello every time
Turning my pen on, into a foreign bed
No tiptoeing, eyes seeing don't worth a dime
Round and round marathon, emotions turn red
Turned high, now you play ping-pong with my passion
My pen, pad, tears in pain of your desertion
Wallowing in this dark place, seeking escape
But I don't see the skyline, it's a vast scape

My pen is caught pants down on a pad
Trying to make bastard poem
Trapped in your coined web of ruse
Bastard poems excused
I feel so damn used
Down this damp rue
Entangled
In this
Muse
Tee2emm