If My Pens Could Speak
They would tell you tales
Of how they worked all day
Spitting out details
With no time to play
They've felt so much anger
And way too much pain
The night is no stranger
The night has felt much vain
They've worked with no vitality
They've worked without pay
This is their normality
To work all through the day
They see the morning light
But work isn't quite done
They put up a fight
But still have fun
They may have a complaint
Of how I don't follow labor laws
They don't think I'm a saint
But if only they could speak
*Written on March 28, 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
