Dear lovely pen, I’ve been awake for a while now,
You’ve got me feelin’ like Colbie Caillat now.
But you give me more than just tingles in my toes, you give me whole inspiration.
I’m not a fan of tattoos, but I like the ink in your vain.
What am I gonna say, when you make me feel this way?
It was love at first write the moment I saw you.
I know I struggled to find the right words a few times,
But I’m glad I finally found the artistic hand to hold you.
I looked beyond your delicate plastic curves, and saw you for the substance within, do you still remember our first date?
I remember I couldn’t afford to take you to the 2 Quire concert,
But you were my ride or die pilot.
So we tottered into a journey of 72 pages.
Before I knew it, we were making love on the white sheets of paper.
I’m trying not to stray from the margin, but can you remember those first nights of tight tripod grips, the very first magic?
But enough with the poetic romance, thank you for being my soul confidant.
You’ve always been there to listen to my inner thoughts,
You’re not just a pen, but a fine stick of the writers’ tree of life itself.
Some use you as a weapon of war, I see you as an instrument of love.
Sometimes I wonder, though something scary to think, where would I be without you by my side?