The other day I called it in

to my office, from the hall;

it wasn't that my muse was, "off"

it wasn't doing anything, for any reason, at all !

At the onset I thought it was but, a tad tired;

and l thought l'd give it another day;

then l began realizing a listlessness

that was contagious, much to my dismay.

I spoke with the man at the pharmacy

who assured me that there was a cure;

and that, if it were not soon administered

there'd be consequences no poet could endure !

So frightened was l, after hearing of this

l sprang to action, right after my nap;

l visited a place where the critics loved me,

'twas my fans thought l was loaded with, crap !

l awoke and went straight to my office

to have said "talk", with my weak little muse;

l instead, began writing about "nothing",

instead of holding on too tight, to an excuse !