The Pen

For whomever the pen writes is a mystery,

An enigma I so wanted to unravel;

Yet in the process I discovered – is knowing that important,

Or is it more than sufficient that it writes?

How the pen writes is another fascinating thing

That I can’t seem to shake off my head;

Sometimes gibberish – ambiguous; yet more often surprisingly profound,

Showing depths of unexplored possibilities, or is it?

What the pen writes is another curious thing,

Cause it gives off variety of reactions –

Good, bad; happy, sad – melancholic,

It is certain – the pen can drive you mad!

The reality though that sometimes gets unnoticed,

Is that the pen writes mostly for who holds it,

It writes the way the holder directs it to,

It expresses what the holder feels – wishes and hopes for.

Thus the next time you hold a pen, give it a good think –

The message I want to go across, what really is it?

Do I spread hatred or otherwise give the world a bit of love,

Or just let myself be the pen, move freely with every dots and curve?

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