Tag Archives: Writer

Cold Pen

This cold, fragile pen shaking in the hands of someone who fears its breakage. Let there be life and love to warm its frozen ink and dot the lines before I tear apart a new blank sheet of paper.

Cold pen, why do I fear you and your wry sense of humour in granting me licks and twitches in response to ideas and lyrical words of my dismal arts?

Cold pen, why do you sit alone? Why can you not lean against the others and take from them a sense of use and honour of giving what is received and receiving what is given? Why do you stare at me with complete condescension?

Oh wishes and fishes I have none, cold pen grant me more than what you do.