We buried a muse the other day
For a poet laid down his quill
He said he'd never write again
For he simply refused to feel

Muses came from miles around
To tell their friend goodbye
Inspiration was everywhere
You should have heard them cry

They buried her in a special place
Up on Inspiration Hill
Paper flowers covered her grave
Her tombstone, the poet's quill

No one knows where muses go
When poets refuse to write
Maybe they simply disappear
Or maybe follow the light

The next time you get your writer's block
And you're feeling empty inside
Your inspiration has gone to a funeral
For another muse has died

"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"

"Look at the beautiful towers"
"I wonder if a princess lives there"
"I'll bet she is kind, they're so hard to find,
With beautiful long flowing hair"

My daughter loved to go to the beach
She loved the sandcastles the best
But she didn't know her heart was too slow
And soon they would open her chest

It's funny sometimes how time can fly
It only seems like yesterday
There was a major complication with her operation
And my daughter has passed away

I still go to the beach from time to time
To see the sandcastles on display
I still close my eyes and part of me dies
Each time I hear her say

"Daddy look at all the sandcastles"
"Aren't they all so grand?"
"Who could have known a king and his throne,
Could simply be made out of sand"

I watch your kisses fade away
Your smiles all disappear
You thank God I'm home to stay
But indifferent, when I'm near

The love I see within your eyes
Are remnants from the past
I'm no longer your heart's prize
The promise didn't last

You gave your country all you had
They gave you back a chair
That's all you see, you're always sad
But war is never fair

I'd rather they shot me in the head
So I wouldn't know your name
They took away your life instead
But I'm the one you blame

I watch each day as our love dies
Crippled, I've stolen your joy
You look at me with pitiful eyes
Like a child sees a broken toy

My passion has become my pain
I ache to hold you tight
My days are long, no longer short
And lonely is my night

When you're not here my heart will break
It's mended by your touch
They say it's the way it's supposed to be
But I miss you way too much

I'm crippled when you say good bye
And seal it with a kiss
It reminds me of the things I've lost
And what I'm going to miss

I didn't know that love could hurt
But I guess it always will
A two way street that's good and bad
One we all must feel

My passion has become my pain
Divided by a line
The only peace that makes it right
Is knowing you are mine

I know he breaks your heart each day
I see it when you cry
You see him look the other way
When a woman passes by

And I know you think he's cheating
But you still believe his lies
Another piece of your heart will break
I can see it in your eyes

And I just wanted to let you know
I'll take whatever he breaks
I'll mend all the broken pieces
And keep the promises he makes

I'll hold your smile next to mine
And make it stay that way
If you'll give me your broken pieces
I'll chase your tears away

Whenever he breaks what's left of you
And your love for me increases
I want you to know that I'll be here
With all your broken pieces

Shadows still, as Fall laments
Winter claims its prize
It happens slow, in increments
Death is in Fall's eyes

The things of nature begin to age
It happens every year
It's time for life to turn the page
And slowly disappear

Winter demands a final reward
Seeking to steal Fall's breath
Death will come, it's never ignored
This is the way of death

Memories last as long as they can
Of the things that used to be
Winter is Death and Fall is Man
And it comes for you and me

Winter takes the things we've done
And leaves behind the crumbs
No place to hide, no where to run
For Winter always comes

I saw a poet the other day
Just sitting with his muse
He said he's getting too old to write
So he gave her to me to use

She was filled with inspiration
But mostly filled with tears
She missed the poet she used to inspire
She was his for sixty-five years

I tried to write a poem that day
But the words came out all wrong
My muse was always distracted
She'd been with him so long

Again, I passed my poet friend
Just sitting on the street
He looked like he lost the love of his life
He was tired and wouldn't eat

I told him I couldn't use his muse
She was his to do as he will
That old man began to smile
As he dusted off his quill