My muse is too sad to come out and play today. Sometimes, my creativity calls to me, but my muse fights her. She acts like a stubborn little sister. My muse is a smart one, for she has all the control over my written thoughts, and she decides if she’s in the mood. But, today I feel her sadness, and know her ache. Her little heart muse is cracked today, and she feels it in so many ways. I see her hiding beneath an umbrella of pain. She wants to get up and be happy, but she is afraid of the pain that falls around her cover. My muse wants to escape today, and not be a part of anything. My calling need has no effect on her. Will she be in the mood tomorrow? Maybe the sun will shine on her, and find a way to mend the crack. But, today, my muse is too sad to come out and play.