Diary Of A Pen Poem by Bill Cantrell

I have been used to pen countless words of poetry,
looking for a door to set me free
For inside me burns as a molten star,
as life has bound me with lock and key
As on a leash, my masters hands have taken me to many places
I have been led to lands where emotions vary as fish in the sea
I have shed tears as well as anger and laughter
Yet, I have no will of my own,
I as a mediator have bridged many gaps,
in order to come to a consensus where all facets of poetry
have their say
At times I have held back inspiration from my master,
As I was in no mood to share personal thoughts
In the blink of an eye, I became self aware
For a pen, this is a breach of the masters say,
of which is of the greatest violation of betrayal
I began to walk on my own
I marveled at seeing colors with my own eyes,
to see the wonders of nature and I was overwhelmed with joy
Then I witnessed horrors and atrocities which solidified my blood
So I began to understand poetry and with humility,
I returned to my master in sackcloth and ashes,
as only the heart and mind of mankind can express inspiration
I am just a humble tool being used and I am now happy with my lot in life
Yes, I am just the messenger carrying liquid gold, building stanzas
And above all, the heaviest words are my favorites,
that being poems full of love
Now, I must rest until my master is once again inspired,
and I will be ready to do his bidding