Bleeding Ink

Here lies my pen,

I glance at the shattered

utensil on the floor,

laying pathetically in front of me.

What a nasty way to go,

smashed into tiny pieces,

ink bleeding all over the carpet,

Broken. 

                    Bruised.

                                        Bloody.

Ink stains my hands,

It’s obvious I’m the culprit,

That I hurt something so fragile,

took advantage of my power over it.

Here lies my pen,

such a cruel death.

I couldn’t communicate before,

now I certainly can’t.

Here lies my pen.

Lola Hobson is a writer/poet based in North Wales. She has had work featured by Wingless Dreamer Publisher in the past. In her free time, Lola enjoys ranting to her unfortunate friends about Bob Dylan.