I've never liked my handwriting much
It's small and crooked
Sometimes spaced sometimes bunched
I've got so many things that I want to say
I jot them down pen racing away
Pages in I start to feel the pain
The burning and tingling most artists face
Now that I think
My pendmanship's not so bad
I'm grateful to live in an era that
Still interprets pen and ink
Still requires humans to think
Life will go on
And I will die
Never knowing
The reasons why
Never seeing
Cars that fly
Life will go on
And I will die