You can write the words.
You can sing the songs.
The muse will let
The music come to be.
They can be low and sad.
They can be soft and sweet.
They can be happy and glad,
Still the music won't come for free.
The piper must be paid
For the music to be heard.
You will have to bare your soul
To find the right words.
The song will sing inside
If you open up your heart.
You will have to give your all
For the piper to do his part.
The words and the music
Come from deep inside.
If you want to make the songs
There is nowhere you can hide.
The muse guards so jealously
All the tunes and the words.
You have to prove your worth
For the music to be heard.
The piper will play the songs.
Your music will soar.
You may feel empty inside
But the muse will ask for more.
Even if your heart breaks
And the tears fall like rain,
The music will come to be
And the piper will be paid with pain.
Poem by Michele Elaine Wilson © 1997