The Pen That Inspires Me
The power
of writing.
The freedom
of expression.
Oh Pen, your
everflowing ink,
the ease at which
you make my hand write.
How effortless it is
to express my ideas
when I have you
in my hand.
You empower anyone
Who has the honor
of holding you,
of wrapping their fingers
around your
slender,
tall,
and strong body.
Your lightweight.
your simple,
yet elegant composition
makes heads turn,
all eyes drawn to you.
Your versatility
and unique purpose.
you are crafted in every shape,
every color;
your presence
serves as both
functional
and aesthetic.
Your existence is
derived from
Trees,
givers of life;
Metals,
easily malleable
when hot,
then mighty to the touch
when cold;
and from
Silicone
combined with mildly-flexible
plastic compounds,
so that if you
should tragically fall,
you are
indestructible.
Your colors
light up
A paper,
which before
your addition
is plain,
dull,
and without life.
Your evolution
through time.
for centuries,
you have been
the tool
that advances society.
Laws and Declarations,
Speeches and Presentations,
Novels and Textbooks,
Vows and
Diaries.
How many people
have searched
and found
their identity
as a result
of embarking
on a journey fueled by you, dear Pen?
It is thanks to you
that the notion
of a
“Recorded
History”
exists.
The rich,
slippery liquid
inside you.
Your essential nature.
Oh, dear Pen,
nothing can ever
replace you
in my heart.
Computers,
bright screens,
and artificial light,
do not compare
to the literary liberties
you provide.
Yes,
the communication of ideas
may still be present,
but
what mass-produced,
robotic
keyboard
could express the art
of calligraphy
the way only
you allow our
feeble hands
To do?
How could it
even begin
to compare
with
the subtly sweet
scent
of the dark,
rich
liquid inside
your veins?
Or your concrete,
soft,
physical presence?
You excite.
You inspire.
and we
Write
the history of
the future,
by holding
You
in our hands.