MY PEN

This is a poem concerning a high taste and love for writing!

My pen, my pen,

He is always my friendly-son

Stronger than the lion, smiling to the sun

He is neither a hen

Without a teeth

Because he can beat

Papers are sliced with his teeth

He vomits liquid-nothing

Capable of doing something

Kings knee when he plea    

Because he is not lazy

His printings are heavy

Even when there is no girlfriend,

There is always a penfriend

Sand is countable compared his printing!

Checks not, even when his mates are checkmating!

Where does the sand fail to exist?

Hence, my pen cannot fail to resist

Even when men exist to resist

He twinkles and jingles to mingle

With the liquid-nothing to make something

If they stop me from speaking vocally,

My pen will speak majestically

If kings and nobles battle me

They may prevent or reduce me from producing,

But my pen is already reduced, to produce

 And I’ll say:

“Let my pen speak for me

Where I cannot speak”

 “Resist and exist,

So that I may remain to produce

And defeat”

The noble books of mine.

 

 

Author's Note

How is it?