I want to write, I need to write, but the words escape me
The pen begins to speak,
“It is the heart not you who makes me”
I begin to plead…
“I really need this written,
I don’t have time for you to be smitten ”
My pen replies,
“Do you not know we create art and when I say we I mean pen and heart”
I quickly reply
“Of course I realize!”
The pen interrupts,
“Well it seems you don’t understand,
it’s not about your plan.
It is about capturing an emotion
so where ever did you get this notion”
I interrupt screaming,
“I understand all that, I get the deeper meaning!”
The pen calmly interjects,
“No… No you don’t you don’t understand at all.
If so, you would know that I answer to a higher call.
I amount to more than your weekly blog post.
I am the soul’s host, the emotions’ usher.
I am what causes a man to push further.
So if you think that you can make me jump;
Then by all means try all you want.
Your force is evident
Delivering a lack luster performance to put forth your weekly regiment”
Saddness and embarassment sweep my face
“I apologize my dear pen forgive my mistake.
I had forgotten it is not I but the heart that creates”