Conundrum

Conundrum In this sad world of pain and dark dismay; Each sundry soul has his own price to pay. For life's sweet favors we must pay the sum. Both for today and all the days to come. Winners and losers we must forever be. How much we win or lose we soon shall see. Some lose money or in matters of the heart. For love and money from the fool depart. Some lose their freedom, others lose their friends. I in consternation find, that I lose pens. Some lose socks, or combs or petty cash. A careless junkie might misplace his stash. Though I read the good-book and keep down my sins. However hard I try, I lose my pens. Some lose elections battle worn and sore. Some play the market and end up very poor. Bankers and agents give them out for free. Yet alas there are no pens for me. To sign a check or write some wisdom quote. To make a list or send my love a note. Nice ones, cheap ones, they are all the same. They are gone as quickly as they came. Winners and losers, we and all our kin. I am a writer, sadly, I lose pens.