My pen wore red, and scathed a struggling stroke
Black became it better, until feeble nib broke
Blue cried abiding stains, after much impatient rigour
Green was inconsolable, and pink was unconsidered
It was led who was left when all else lacked
That was until rouge eraser attacked
Is it a conscious activity of the precarious pen
To cease work as you require it again and again?
Jan 21, 2020
Jan 21, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
My pen wore red, and scathed a struggling stroke
Black became it better, until feeble nib broke
Blue cried abiding stains, after much impatient rigour
Green was inconsolable, and pink was unconsidered
It was led who was left when all else lacked
That was until rouge eraser attacked
Is it a conscious activity of the precarious pen
To cease work as you require it again and again?
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