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Pen Is My Name


Pen
is my
name

Pen is my name, and I love lots of apples,
pineapples are also quite good.
I get picked up and used
to stroke fine lined paper,
to mark and record
the whatever.
“Get your pen out!”
is not something I often hear,
but I am sometimes pronounced with an is.
I’m used everywhere,
multiple colours,
creating a scene or a story.
I can be bought for a trifle,
mostly given jobs mundane, routine,
I am usually covered in plastic,
my blood ink.
Once I dry up,
I am quickly
thrown and replaced,
like many of my friends who live
in the suburb of Stationery.
I’m planning the future,
though known for my past,
Pen is my name,
come down and hold me
grayscale photo of fountain pen
Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

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