Writer's Block

A sonnet by Star

I need to write, this need, it must be fed

My feelings with no outlet circle round

I know that I am not better off dead

And yet these twisted thoughts swirl and abound.

Why me? I call out to the dark night sky

But the stars have no answer to my pain

I stare at my computer screen and cry

I feel that I will never write again.

They call it "writer's block" but it is more

Thoughts tear apart the soul if they're not shared

My helplessness makes my weeping heart sore

I know that this could stop if I just dared.

The cowards are the loneliest of all

The ground feels so much harder if you crawl.