Pen

by MaX~   Aug 26, 2005


My ink filled body rumbles with life
I’m like a sharp bladed hunting knife
I sway back and forth on this table
Waiting for the man to finish his fable,
I do not erase my own blood
Mess up and you’re left in the mud
I’m one of a kind
Do you mind?
I’m busy…

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments