Left at the beach
Of washed up writers,
I still have a hold on my pen.
Fool that I be, alas and alack.
Bear with me a little longer,
And one day I may surprise you.
I think the biggest surprise
Will be to me.
O well, what the hell,
My muse ain't what it used to be.
At best it was a lot of dribble,
About things here and there.
sometimes a dribble is all we've got,
but what you write,
is definitely not.