A writer's lament

Write something.
Write it now, they say.
For one must keep on writing,
Every single day.

But what if words just won't arise
To enable you to say,
What you had thought was something nice
To put into prose today.

You'd stare right into distant space,
Looking all but blank,
At the nagging emptiness you face,
As your hope for a story sank . . .