O dear pen you drinks too much ink.
Drops of thought flow like drinks.
As Thick as blood, make a link
Between paper and think.
In the depth of ink Words sink
O dear pen stirs my thoughts
run fast and slow to give a shape of my poem.
You bear many blows and soulful sorrows,
Passion flows like warm currents,
Rush towards the shore of papers.
Words like sinds flutters for awhile.
Then reshaped and motionless till the
Next wake.
©subirmitra
S