A Writer's Pen

Shells W

The pen acted with might,
It gave me such fright.
To think it had made a mark,
On paper that was bark.

The pen growled at me and said,
'I can only write what I am fed.'
I looked annoyed and thought,
no time for this to be fought.

I grabbed a stare from my weary eyes,
And turned to look to my surprise.
The pen had made me its plea,
wrote his words for me to see.

I was about to trash the paper about,
than the pen started to pout.
I took another look at the words,
thought that this was absurd.

The pen cried and it said,
'You don't like what you read?'
If I had a chance to see,
what I could really write for me.

We became one,
under the glowing sun.
No more fighting was there,
the words eased with care.

Published by Shells W

Freelance writing I have been doing for many years in areas such as: web content, article writing, writing for a local paper, book and movie reviews, essay writing, keyword writing and have been editor for m...  View profile

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