I bought a pack of pens
The nice ones
But I'm anxious so
I only look at them
I bought the pens yesterday
I've opened them
The nice pens
But I'm anxious so
I haven't used them
Even though I
Am very curious
About the ink
And if it
Flows fluidly
Or paints itself
In the depression
Of the pressure
From my hand
There is one sitting in front of me
A nice pen
I'd like to know how it writes
But I'm anxious so
I can't pick it up
It sits
I have so much to say
But I am anxious so
Maybe later
I'll have forgotten
What it was
I ever wanted
To write
With the nice pen
In the first place