Blinking

The cursor is blinking on a blank page
Pressuring me to perform like actors on a stage
Once you get in front of me what will you create?
Everyone watching and you must entertain!

Screw that. I don’t write to please you.
I write! It comes naturally like grass on the dew.
Poetry muse? What the hell is that? 
This poem  is short but at least I’m  not fat.

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