(based on a true story)
It wrote onpaper
Desks, and books,
I gave it many dirty looks.
I did not know,
As I chewed at its head,
That soon, very soon, this pen
would be dead.
I took it for granted,
Thought it'd alway be there.
I thought I'd still write with it
when out fell my hair.
I never really learned
something important to know,
That soon, very soon, this pen
had to go.
I discovered one day
While I was calmly reading-
The pen I just wrote with was internally bleeding!
I called the doc over
To give it a look.
He said that its illness was not
in his books.
The time had come
one fateful day-
I had to say something I
yearned not to say.
I must say "goodbye, pen,
you've taken a crash."
I gave it a burial into the
trash.
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