Ah, but what to write?

 I used to come with eagerness
And pen within my grasp
To reams of paper---all to write
Whate'er my thoughts'd demand; 
I'd fill the pages line by line, 
With thoughts so int'resting.....
I loved to read what I did write, 
And others too were pleased.

.....But now I drag my feet and pen
So limply in my hand.........
I cannot think just what to write, 
....My paper empty stands; 
And other's mailboxes empty lie
Because I cannot be:
The snazzy writer I had thought, 
With lines to gay to read.

JAN04