Writer's Block

Writer's Block it is so sweet.
It burns my heart, yet is unique.
I want to remember, I want to think.
But every idea seems to give up and sink.
The pages are empty, full of despair,
And my words lose their meaning, like monoxide air.
I want to share what's in my head,
But I can't describe my feelings are dead.
Lie to me, O gods of writing,
And say my words they aren't fighting
Books keep teasing and showing the fame,
The things I can't achieve and cannot gain.
Papers are stained with ink all around me,
But mine are stark white, can't write AND save trees.
Writer's Block it is so sour,
It burns in my mind, harsher by the hour.