"O Pen."  Addressed the paper.
"You keep writing on me like a painter.
You fully know i never grumble like a tree.
Why do you pin and make holes in me?"

"It is not me." Replied the jolted pen.
"Only is my holder that causes you much pain.
Be it child , young or old.
They also fold you and unfold.
My life, too, is similar.
I am used and is thrown away by the user.
O my eternal friend! No use of such a groaning.
We are destined to suffer without healing."