The Plight To Write

To those who tried Before they died With little rope And no more hope They just sat down To Write their last For no one cared About their past No agent could they ever get Left out from all the well known set No contests did they ever win Their query letters Tossed in some bin For all live well Should they get fame Without it Just reduced to shame And one day when they're all alone And no one calls them on the phone Gone then is all their strength to bend The writer's reached his bitter end.