I once had a toy,
That I would play with,
All day and all night.
It seemed happy that I did.
This toy had a persona,
Of it's own,
And a passion,
That grew and grew.
My toy, this toy,
Was my pen you see.
I could travel anywhere with it,
With glee.
I a writer with it went,
With the talent this toy lent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem