Penetrating

In this day and age, I want some recompense I don't understand it, it jus' don't make sense that we can write through our entire lives with all of these damn defective pens Now, you all know what I'm taking about a thought comes to you, and you look around grab one to jot down and just blankness comes out a clear transcription of thoughts ain't found Cups, bags, heck whole drawers of colored inks rattle around days like maracas of empty thought a reliable pen can't be that difficult me thinks yet makers design defective models to be bought that seem to flow like water in a mighty river when opened and used for the very first time effortless lines arc mind to paper to deliver only to sputter, and spot, and splotch the next time How many brilliant tomes, how many cures for cancer how many Nobel-winning ideas of sub-particled find how many deeply spiritual thoughts went unanswered because, like a well, the damn pen went unprimed? Maybe I'm unreasonable, and have a penchant for perfection but if I pick up a pen it should write every curved line, 'stead of pennies, I want it to rain pens from heaven that work the first, the penultimate, and the very last time © Goode Guy 2012-09-06