I feel like writing
But my heart is heavy
and my pen is cold
I feel like writing
But my soul is hiding
and there is no beauty to unfold
I feel like writing
but my fingers are trembling
and it's not my secret to be told
I feel like writing
but the pages have all wrinkled
and all around me has grown old
I am still writing
though my quill has turned to feathers
cos my words are worth more than gold.
Albert Kingsley
A