Pen Poem by bhupender swarnakar

My given name is pen
My price is Rupees ten
I in reality don’t know when
And how I am utilized by men

My cap is my pillow
Its colour is whitish yellow
My nip is my brain
That lets my ink wane

My heart is my refill
That lets me stand still
My blood is my ink
That flows only when you think

My job is to write
On books, paper and kite
When I actually do so
my ink level keeps becoming low

I can scepter some ones life
And let some one leave their wife
I was given birth by man
So he can use me as he can