Conversing With My Pen Poem by Edwina Reizer
Conversing With My Pen
ME
I hate this feeling that comes to me.
It makes me feel I’m weak.
It’s at these times I pick up my pen
and allow my pen to speak.
PEN
She’s depressed again and expects that I
can take her feeling away.
Why doesn’t she just give me a rest
and lessen her grip today?
ME
Come on my friend. You can help me out.
Give me a thought or two.
But please don’t let me write about love.
That’s not what I want to do.
PEN
You always write about love you know.
It’s the thing you do the best.
If you must not write about love
then please just give me a rest.
ME
I thought you knew me better than this.
You’ve been in my hand so long.
Maybe I’ll let your ink run dry
for I’m really not feeling too strong.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/23/2025 8:47:47 AM # 1.0.0
I love this poem! I think I know such conversations, had them too, more than once. Some times we get tired and we want to write of other things than love but whatever we do the poem turns out filled with love. As long as heart is filled with it, would be too hard to write of stranger things. But sometimes we need to recharge, how do you do it? Thank you for share, a loving poem!