An Ode To the Mighty Pen
They say the pen is mightier
than the sword,
I, too, believe this to be true
with its undying loyalty
its soul belongs to me
the pen shows us what it means
to be honorable,
with its sharp point
ready to stab my foe
its long jet black armor
shielding its plastic entrails
how swiftly though,
it transforms
from a willing soldier
to a gentle confidant
indulging the needs of its master
the pen shows no fear
it tells no lies
it can have the innocence
of a butterfly kiss on the cheek
or the dull edge
of a dagger to the heart,
it fits so perfectly
between my thumb and finger
like a baby being held
by a first time mother
she is gleeful as she hears
her sweet child’s coos
if ever I need to get revenge
I will not use a sword
nor a gun
I will take this pen
in my hand,
and slice my villain
with each syllable
I carve,
my murderous song
will forever be engraved
tainted,
with the murky black ink
that flows effortlessly
from my magnificent octopus.
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