The Pen
The pen's a sword for carving poems.
A wand for measuring beats.
A whip to keep the rhythm
and a stick to tap the tweets.
It's silent to the ear-drums
when heard inside the head.
Words firmer than my chin bone
in notes from what seems dead.
It points to things I question
and scribbles errors I make.
And when it writes some new stuff
forgives me my mistake.
At rest upon my paper
it signals that I'm done.
And when I go to grab it
I'll click it just for fun.
Copyright © Trevor Mcleod | Year Posted 2014
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