Mont Blanc – ode to a fountain pen
You promised you would use me
When you spent all that money
Then smuggled me across the border
Packed deep in your luggage
You said, I was worth every penny
That you couldn’t wait to fill me up
And let my beauty spill across
The page and yet, you have yet
To lift me up or take me out at all
Do I scare you with my fineness
Am I more than you can handle
Were you broken by my name
Taken in by a brand and now resent
That I sit on your desk mocking you
With my disuse – take me out, let me
Loose – I promise – I will be brilliant
and you will write beautiful poetry for your owner.
ReplyDeleteClever personification.