Red, as the deepest rose in a bloom of spring
like the blood that runs through my being
like the light inside the tower for men at sea
your touch creates a safe haven for me

Dust, clouded and floating through the air
like a part of the Earth that didn't bother to care
like the way a fire sparkles through a dead night
you are just the correct type of write

Fragmented and broken in a universe of chaotic distrust
like a brand new bike with a slight bit of rust
like joy that only comes when you're in my hand
no need for an audience, you are my biggest fan

A song to be belted from the top of a mountain high
like the coarse, bristly hairs my fingers slip by
like the tissues that have wiped so many tears
you are the only one who will ever understand my wants and fears

And love, the sweetest, most innocent, and pure kind
like the first opening of a newborn's eyes
like the moment you realize your purpose in life
you are the only one I feel I will ever do write by

So here's to you, my dearest friend- my pen,
you are why I am who I am.