(this is an old one....)

The paper is violated,
Soiled by my thoughts,
My pen weeps in trembling hands
Choking as it clots.

Crippling ideas seize
Every word it ever wrote,
Now it spurts as it fights
The lump in its throat.

Haunted by precipitous grief
It seeks to rejoice,
But bound on the rocks
Lies its crucified voice.

Through abysmal despair
Mute visions cry,
But my hands will not stop
Their eyes from running dry.

Thoughts are slaughtered
In flocks and herds,
Now I've stained my hands
With bleeding words.

Insensate mindlessness
I know not what I say,
My hands have lost their mind -
My words have lost their way...