My Blue Pen - Poem by Arfa Kalera
Once I had with me a blue new pen,
It's nib was like a beak of the hen.
I bought it from the Ben's shop,
It was the pleasure I had to crop.
I went back and filled it with ink,
I wrote, My notebook began to blink.
I showed my work to my teacher,
She asked to write more like a preacher.
I always wrote and wrote with it,
Then it began to wear out a little bit,
Once after my work, I put it on the bed,
I sat on it mistakenly, found it dead.
It was my sword that broke, it is true,
It shed blood but only black or blue.
Comments about My Blue Pen by Arfa Kalera
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye