I think my pen is broken now. Sometime I can’t get even a word out of it and I don’t know how. But other times I’m not even trying and the ink just flows, And it’s writing another great story with twists and turns as it goes. Sometimes it feels like it might actually be more powerful than the sword, And my faith in the written word is somewhat restored. Butt other times it just feels like it’s meant to be a paperweight, And the few words that come really aren’t worth the wait. Sometimes I think about if I should try and get a better one, And then maybe I can consistently get things done. Yet sometimes I feel that it may not be the pen, And maybe it’s me that’s actually broken.
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