The Poet and The Muse

The poet came to the city
With unwritten songs in his head
He promptly found a place
Where his soul could be fed

He didn't have much of a voice
But he wanted to start a band
Where he could play with people
Would read him and understand

She walked in to his life
And couldnt help become his muse
She sung all his songs so well
That Love was just another ruse

She asked him about his lyrics
'Why do they turn out to be so sad'
She questioned his melancholy
'There's so much else that can be had'

He never really read her
But insisted she read all of him
He couldnt even tell her
That his songs were works of whim

She couldnt change the theme
Or the nature of his songs
She gave up when she gave it all
And she thought he was wrong

She went ahead and left him
He became sad and happy and bright
For all the love he had for her
She had given him something to write