I've written all day
And all night.
My pen is empty
And I’m uptight.
I scratch and scratch
For ink to flow;
But the pen cries—
“There is no more! ”
It was a good pen
With a great feel.
‘Tis hard giving up,
But I have to yield.
And so, I reach
For a new pen.
And, oh, my stars—
Got a new friend.
©
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