This Pen Poem by Sierra Evans

I'm not supposed to have this pen.
But,
it's so magnificent.

I love the way the words just fall out, place themselves perfectly onto the paper.
The pen glides and the words spill.

The shiny silver armor, the hard, black helmet equipped with the glistening sword.
This must be an important pen, right?

On the inside there must be gold painted black.
There must be something worth a million dollars.

Because outside the air is potent and the gray of the sky seems to engulf our small town.
Right into it's darkest depths.

But this pen still shines,
it still glimmers.

It takes the little bit of light and turns it into the sun.

This pen is special,
I can tell.