I am just a pen

I wonder what beautiful works my master has in store for me today

I hear him speak a breathtaking symphony of rhymes and rhythms that I look forward to putting to paper.

I see him battle thoughts in his head on which words he should use next.

I want to aid him in his troubles but,

I am just a pen.

I pretend that I am the mastermind behind the stapedius art work before me.

I feel honored to be in the presence of something so superior.

I touch the silky smooth paper to help form it to my masters liking

I worry that I will not last to see the project to the end

I cry when I read the repertoire of words that I have added to the paper

I am just a pen

I understand that I am merely a utensil

I say that I have made a contribution to his work

I dream that I will be bestowed with recognition

I try to work to the best of my ability

I hope my master will remember my hard work when his poem is published

I am just a pen.