When your pen falls
From your book into your lap
It is just near your stomach
And then slips swiftly towards your flank
And you try to hold it, catch it,
Milliseconds only and you are anxious
Oh! You hear this peculiar sound
A short soft metalic ringing
Gone! Under the chair or somewhere

You have to rearrange yourself
From the extreme comfort of your posture
To pick up that nasty pen

You have to look at your days
Calculate every bit of their occurence
Try to prevent but still those pens fall

Pk