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Poem

It just hit the paper the moment I hold it
How does this pen know what I’m thinking? 
It seems to be able to read my mind; even without moving 
A muscle it just floats I’m out of words now but
It can read my deepest thoughts even the ones that

I never hope I will have a chance to hear in this lifetime
A pen made of ink should not be able to do such wonders
A crowed come from all the corners of the world
They stare in amusement each eager to get their grasp on it
Some say it was made for me but doubters think otherwise

The rumours have been flying around ever since
I got my hands to this pen; bets have come
All with good and tempting but I told them 
This is my pen and mine alone unless it decide to break our pact

You are my pen that will write to world
You are the ink to my life
This is our life that we wished
This is the movie that you loved watching
This is really what you have been looking for
Keep writing my mystery pen

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