A New Pen
A new pen
There is nothing like
finding a new pen.
The immediate feeling,
like your hand’s been missing something
that it never knew it missed.
Each different than the last,
different than the next.
The disappointment when,
you find a dud,
Surpasses any time,
I’ve ever been stuck in traffic.
When it glides over the paper,
as if, you’ve been together forever.
Almost like, the pen is responsible
for the new thoughts it portrays.
Each has their own role:
My angry pen,
Scrawling out my pent up rage.
My heartfelt pen,
Bleeding love I could never express vocally.
My existential pen,
pondering the point in all this.
With the understanding that,
every time I ‘surely’ find “the answer.”
I’m only left with more questions,
each in their own hue.
Leaving me only one option:
Find a new pen.