My black pen

My black pen
It's got me through rough times.
Like when I tried to write this poem
Couldn't think of any rhymes
On my skin flowed the dark ink
As I sat and started to think
Why are the lyrics still not flowing
It's because the black pen isn't showing
This utensil only works on skin
To put it on paper is a downright sin
For it will not show between each line
But only on your palm time after time
They said it's just a one time thing
Well think again my pens the king
As it glides across my flesh
And i wash it off like pressing refresh
I can make room for the next day
So the pen can scribble away astray day after day
Around it swings I frowned it stings.
Oh but I cannot be mad for it's just ink it's not that bad
Oh the strange things that this pen writes
Songs titles,lyrics, it's all a delight
Despite the bright light that I fight
I stick with black for its relation to the night
For night is when it's all removed
The jokes the references all to be moved
And to my dismay when I wash it all away
while scrubbing at all the perfects arrays
Never once does it cross my mind
All the memories I'm leaving behind
The soapy water runs down the drain
Less and less inc in the cartridge remains