The people go to ballgames, picnics, the dance, movies and the bar. Along their way the people will think of what all they'll enjoy today.
I go to a small room with pad and pen as my friends. I think of what I might write today. Alone.
The people go and do their work. They make things for other people, they make money for themselves. With colleagues they will talk of politics, family, and last night's game. They will bicker with each other, and they will bitch about the boss. I watch them move along, leaving me behind,
I am the captive of a jealous Muse.