Pen

PEN

 

When I pick this pen up

I think a thousand words

But write so few

Perhaps , I do not know many words

 

It appears

This is my messenger

as well as I am its prisoner

I want to write as much as I speak

but this instrument restricts me

 

I want to fill pages upon pages

with my feelings , opinions and words

But I am able to fill so few

so very few

 

perhaps this is a mixed blessing

For I want to write so much

but I am unable to

 

Forcing me

rather unwillingly

to write less,

and to express my thoughts in a more

clear and concise manner