Divorce

My Muse left me for a Hobo on State Street
and I am sitting on a cardboard box full of unfinished books
Can't blame her, really
when nothing I do can shake this gray
And after a quarter of a century
my compass has yet to be tattooed where I can see it
The Hobo is homeward bound-
my Muse left me for direction I can't give her
Now I know what it's like to be left behind
In the divorce, I get the cardboard box
and she takes her ideas

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