writer's block

My computer is dead again, 

It's another excuse not to write. 

My hand is cramping from playing, 

But all the songs don't sound right. 

They don't quite understand it, 

How can I still be sad? 

I've spent too long behind, 

And they don't really care about that. 

I've been breathing since last week,

Maybe I'm finally improving. 

Though I spent last night crying, 

I was on my bedroom floor; unmoving. 

I've been thinking it over a million times, 

I still don't know if I should stay. 

I don't want to be trapped anymore, 

My skies are all turning grey. 

I can't find any pencils, 

And my fingers won't type. 

So I'll just stare at the white ceiling, 

With not a single word to write.