Holy GhostWriter
He woke me up, midpoint, one night.
"Up! Up! Up! Take pen, let's write"
A novice poet, but a scribe, more like it.
Can't take credit, it's His words describ'n it.
His words, not mine - I'm cheating for sure.
He makes me look good, His tome, so pure.
He knows just what the readers need.
From His mouth, the bits of life proceed.
But if, by chance, the rhyme should fail.
Not His fault and my face goes pale.
Tony Mujica © 2011
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