The Muse, so timid
Her Inspiration, so fragile
Her visage, so perfect
Her caress, so fleeting
Like an unremembered dream
Art, life, and love
All combined in an instant
Moments shared, then gone
Memory trapped, always free
Like an unbound dream
Hopes, desires, and wishes
Living forever, making plans
The tomorrows of yesteryears
Time unknown, until it passes
Like the dream called life
I would be more impressed if I had not known you from before a time of expression only a time of mostly observation. Don’t think that I was unaware of you and your unique mind at work while soaking in the lame doings of mankind. Do not think you were the only deep thinker of the bunch. Do think that you know who I am. I will be your third guess.
Sorry Matt. you are victim of poor timing. I am still enthralled by the Muse. which is not surprising, but just odd and new to me considering i have spent my life unable to form emotional attachments. a ton of emotions i have never felt before that I still have to get threw.
your riddle would have been hard except for the fact that before John the only people I ever had ‘real’ or ‘deep’ conversations with was you and Jill.