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Monday, June 20, 2011

#171 My Pen, My Companion


My mighty pen
I got you when you were new
Though cheap I was glad to have you
Alas, now you are almost out of blue

What shall I do
On that fateful stroke
That you finally run out of ink?
Will I make a sad death joke?

Will I throw you in the trash
Like any other used up thing
To be dumped and composted
The anonymity of compacting

Or I could make a big deal
Whittle a tiny coffin
And place you in it
Lined with white satin

I’d give a eulogy
Tear jerking and long
About how you were always there for me
How even when I lost you, I was in the wrong

That might be a little much though
I could add you to my collection of odds and ends
Sitting in my basement collecting dust in little bins
I go down there at night, to spend time with my collected friends

I could take a new pen
And swap out the ink tube
Then at least I’d still have your body
Although when I say it like that it seems creepy and rude

Ultimately when the day comes
That you’ll no longer write for me
I’ll simply put you down without a frown
And go merrily on my way