Creation

My muse, who chooses to provide me with grand ideas, of
how to build and create pieces of art with lips that never lie.
She shows me how to make them pleasing to every eye.

In my mind, I see beautiful images of paintings, statuaries,
and other art I have created because she fills my head with
ideas no one has ever had before.

I can’t help but adore and want to kiss her because in my mind pictures,
I painted fill rooms blooming with all I create and I’m praised for being
comparable to Picasso, Rembrandt, and even Michelangelo.

Like Leonardo, Da Vinci I’d have the intent to invent futuristic things with
wings and fill the skies with non-polluting flying machines, and rockets
traveling faster than the speed of light that would never miss a flight.

There’d be no need for roads, because I’d invent a machine to teleport
people and things from one spot or planet floating in the sky, to another,
and you’d find your DNA is intact and exact.

Cancer would decease to exist, and all other diseases wouldn’t
be able to subsist. Death would be only a memory, because my
muse shows me a thousand hues that’ll defeat the harvester of souls.

My muse shows me how to do all these things, if only I had the ambition
to get out of my chair in front of the TV and invent or paint or sculpt, or
do what she shows me how, even now while I watch, “One Life to Live.”.

All substances humanity needs to survive for eternity is sent through my
brain but to actually do a good deed, and complete the work required is
more than I can do, because by mistake nature to be mean, has implanted

within my DNA and brain, the lazy gene that requires me to do nothing
but lay around, drink beer, and watch TV all day.