2003 Poetry

the blue pen is running out of ink

so the finger hasten to pen his master’s wish

and when the pen finally ran out of ink

the quill volunteered to render his service

the master thought for a while and whispered

where can I find an ink for this quill?

not very far from the master’s table

was a dagger; the idea came too quickly

now, the wish looks very real

written 10/21/03

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