Pen Goblin

He lives under my bed And he sleeps on the couch Even when he's fed He's still kind of a grouch He'll take one at a time Or maybe two or three He won't pay a dime He thinks they're free He hasn't a name But I call him Bob He thinks it's a game When my pens he does rob He hasn't any manners He doesn't say please He takes my pens from my planners And then he flees What does he look like If only he would ask I wish he would go on strike And take off that mask Written on July 17, 2012