The Diamond is a muse.

The noises of the night seem so lonely But when that text comes in, I stern to see. What magical words have been written? Well they make me laugh? Well they make me think? Well I take them to heart; better yet can I take them to my heart? What can I say back to this muse that rules my day? Does this muse even know what I want to say? She makes me think! She makes me laugh! Oh how the praises I give to her are a mere piece of coal when she is a diamond, and I am that rough. I do not know how to take care of this diamond, I am to rough. I leave it on my shelve, when all I care to do is put it next to my heart! I would wear it around my neck and bring with me where ever I go. But alias I leave it home. I am scared someone might steal it. Or I may lose it , or drop it or worse the diamond would find a better home… My muse, my diamond, my magic, my bless. I bow to you… I will always miss.