Do you become desperate to find something to write about...

Over-anxious that your whisper becomes a shout

That's heeded by those of the passing age

And joins deep thoughts placed upon the page?

Do you take up the pen or press keyboard key

For producing stuff the world will see,

Never minding what you actually write about

As long as you can get it out?

Is the need within more than any theme?

Do you feel compelled to plot and scheme

And write about just any old kind

Of subject that comes into your mind?

If so, it seems like some obsession

To take your place in the poetical procession

Of others who, it can be predicted,

Are doubtess sure to be similarly afflicted.

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