A pen.
My pen.
It glides along along along along
Seemingly endless
Superceding every full stop
Never pausing at a comma
Until halfway on line 29 of page 158
In the middle of the word 'dispossessed'
It stops.
And there lying on the floor
Just a pen discarded and replaced.
A pen
Once mine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this; this is a beautiful poem!