Wednesday, 13 October 2010

Pen

I’m a pen, an ordinary pen.
In a world of keyboards.
I have no illusions whatsoever.
I’m just a stinky normal pen seeking for a stinky normal paper.
Any ordinary paper.
A paper where I can ride, write and draw all over the sheet.
I don’t last long but then again I don’t need any space at all.
A pocket, a wallet, a tiny bin will suit me fine.
I’m just a pen.
But you can have me in the same second you want me.
In any normal, ordinary paper.
Would you be so kind and go find a paper for me?
Any paper at all.
An ordinary stinky paper.
A paper made of paper where words and draws made of ink will appear as if out of nowhere.
No, it’s no magic. I have ink inside of me, way too much ink inside of me.
If you find again the lust of using me you’ll just need to refill.
With just some normal, ordinary ink.
So easy, no enter, no tricks, no virus.
I have no illusions whatsoever.
I’m just a pen.
Would you lend me a piece of paper?
Any kind of paper.
A stinky normal, ordinary paper.
I’m just a pen who wants to draw.
Draw words, lines, curves and bullshit.
There’s no keyboard as free as me.
So easy, no enter, no tricks, no virus.
But no illusions whatsoever.
Would you give me a paper?
Would you play with me?
I’m just a pen.
A stinky normal pen seeking for a stinky normal paper.
Any ordinary paper…

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