Marks of Life

Dear Pen, 
It's almost as if I was the paper. 
Practically monotonous, but overflowing with potential. 
So when the tip of your body made contact with my pale, untouched skin, purpose began blooming from within my sorrow-filled soul. 
As your dark lines began to form words, my perspective altered and my longing was fulfilled. 
If it weren't for that ever-so glorious day, my thoughts would still dance around, itching to escape but failing to ever make their mark. 
My life was saved that day; rejuvenated and free. 
To look back would be catastrophic  To surge forward an eternity of delight. 
Pen, you have written my destiny out before my eyes. 
For this, I thank you. 
Sincerely, 
Your Good and Faithful Servant

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

11blueroses

Very unique and off-beat. Well done :)

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