The Will to Write

I have no feelings,
I can not write.
It's been ten years,
Since I've felt the bite,
The scratch, the urge,
The will to write.

I've tried, every now and then,
A line or two would find my pen.
But nothing more could I think,
And thoughts run dry like used up ink.

I've tried to think of days before,
When my heart felt great love or pain.
But no such feelings are at my door,
To tell the story is in vain.

No matter how hard I try,
I can only write in truth.
And loved and lost were all I cared,
But have drifted away with my youth.{/center}{/left}