I Pick Up a Pen

Cartoons and packages, gum stuffed on a box, Staplers, and fluffy hats, blue yarn full of knots, A dying rose, stuck tight to the wall, An overgrown zebra, quite tired and tall. It’s a pickle I’m in, It’s a consternation to me, How my room could be so ridiculous, So crazy, and free. I pick up a pen, and I begin to write, Hoping to forget everything I see in my sight. I pick up a pen, and turn myself into another being, I am magical now, a superbly-seeing. I can fly, I can flee, I can growl, I can hit. I am a new person, Imagine it!