The Man With So Many Pen

plastic, metal, or made out of wood

all sort of colors: red, black and blue

different varieties, branded or not

may it be expensive 

or just found on a corner…

it doesn’t matter if it’s working or not

sometimes it’s broken, 

either run out of ink 

or have lost its spring

but the point of the matter is…

who cares?

it’s just a pen!

a pen is a pen and so it is…

my mind couldn’t reach

what is this man thinking?

pen here and there

they’re all over the place

he used to collect them

and kept them like gems

and i wonder, why? 

my curiosity went like an echo in my head

but to ask this man,

i never had the chance…

little things to consider

but was left unanswered

what’s the reason behind

i really wanted to know

if only asked one simple question

i should have known this man better…

and when he left for good

i looked for his keys

and tons of pens surprised me…

what’s even more surprising

was they sat next to our photos…

warm tears rolled onto my cheeks

for this man never mentioned

how he truly felt for our family…

i already knew, i will never know now 
why these pens meant a lot

but he already answered

what i’ve been really longing for

the moment i’ve seen our photos

next to his treasured gems

for that reason alone

i have found my peace,

and will forever be grateful

to this so called man who gave me life…

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