“Better Man”

My muse deserved a better man than I became.
She found him on my page, signed by my name.
But while we laid eyelashes to cheek,
she never once saw that man in me.
So she moved my head to her guillotine block—
and trained me how to sing my sweetest song.

narrative poem written on 12-07-2009 by: on mattkane.com
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