I'm pretty dumb but my muse is much brighter
It seems that the strangest of things can excite her
If she gets dusty I give her a shaking
But it was just flour from where she's been baking.
When she is sad she's a dour alcoholic
She slumps in a corner and wines for her tonic
When she is happy she's contagious like giggles
She flounces around with her hair in cute pig tails.
She rarely gets caught as she steels through my senses
And fashions her fancies with
their consequences.
I'm glad she feels safe but I wish she'd stay put
I could sure use her help with this 'stupid' I've got.