I'm the one who holds the pen till I die

by Everlasting   Jun 28, 2017


And to think that I used to write everyday,
And now, I just write every other time
whenever I manage to make writing a priority

Back then, I believed I was a pen
held by an unknown author's hand
whom with my help penned down creativity

I thought my purpose was to leave a mark
in the reader's mind until my ink ran out
and I was tossed into the trash without any sympathy

I felt that my destiny was to spend my life
safeguarded in a drawer, away from any danger,
just there, ensuring my availability

I feared that if I didn't allow the emotion of the moment
to hold me tight and write thoughts down
that my ink would dry up for eternity

but as time went by, I realized that I was not a pen
yet that just like one, i would go dry someday...

June 27, 2017

5


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Latest Comments

  • 3 months ago

    by Maple Tree

    You always touch my heart with your creativity! This poem really got to me... I love your metaphor.....you took the pen and interwined it with your feelings in such a beautiful way! Love this!

  • 3 months ago

    by Moe

    Or maybe you can be refilled thus never truly run dry, be it the pen or the pen master.
    I enjoyed reading this. Cheers.

    • 3 months ago

      by Everlasting

      Nah, when I die is going to run out.

  • 3 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Beautiful imagery with superb imagery - loved it x

  • 3 months ago

    by Michael

    Such a beautiful piece. Lovely images flow from your pen :)

    Michael

  • 3 months ago

    by mossgirl19

    Hi, Everlasting! It's so great to read from you again, and what a poem! You do hold the pen until you die, and the ink will never dry. This beautiful piece proved it so. This is very relatable and I think we all stop somewhere only to begin great again. :-)

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