My Muse

My muse is far away somewhere, sleeping
While I trudge through unfulfilling days,
And pointless chores that leave me weeping.

My muse is unaware of my yearning
I try to stir him in other ways
And bask in the praise that I'm earning.

My muse is across the ocean, living
Not knowing my smile and what it says
Love is offered without misgiving.

My muse will never know this affection
Is not merely a star-crazed phase
Endure the most careful inspection.

My muse will remain ignorant for now
Permanent obsession in my gaze
Find the courage to confess, somehow.


Auth note: I edited this poem so that it would follow a 10-9-9 scheme - please do let me know if this works for you. Thanks