Five Stories For a Pen

Black ink cartridge dead and empty Once fed blank paper onion white It was a canon while it lasted All good copies come to an end When it ran dry as printers do All things die in desert lands Of thirst and things unsaid Find a pen that works or pencil full of lead Were the last words of the computer At home the pen replaced the printer Canon products are much too costly Find something mightier than the sword Something cheaper for the written word Pen or graphite for stories be be told Mine left my pocket for the broken window Climbed out of it though it was closed Which was difficult without a single finger Or toes and everyone knows pens don't have souls It went five stories up the building wall Intent on injury, suicide or worse Jumped off the roof without a warning Pens become distressed when falling down Forget to leave a message when desperate What is a pen without some paper on the desk The ink bled out upon the pavement Not red as you might well expect More like a black and white old movie It was a mess as you might guess No inkwells coming to the rescue of the pen No police around when needed either Donuts are their friends and must be eaten With the holes intact upon impact When pens fall out of pockets off of roofs Who will write the story five floors down Of something found but not reported Or come to some conclusions to that end