Poison Pen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

This pen refuses to write anything that does not inflict pain on somebody.

Poison Pen

 

Not one nice thing will it write,

This pen won’t compliment,

It will make whoever reads

Know that to hurt was its intent.

 

It’s going to shout out hard and fast,

Tell of all the things you’ve done;

You think you’ve locked your secrets up --

It will reveal them one by one.

 

It revels in embarrassment,

The guilt and the distress;

Pain and tears it thrives upon

Just like the gutter press.

 

It will hunt out any weakness

Then go in for the kill,

Anything to entertain

Or, better yet, to thrill.

 

I should have smashed it long ago

Consigned it to the trash,

But when I try to bin it

In my hand it will just thrash.

 

Other pens have come and gone,

They’ve run right out of ink,

But this one with the poison nib

It seems to never sink.

 

I’d rather say some pleasant things

Than to always be so cruel

But it just won’t form the letters

And it plays me like a fool.


Submitted: September 01, 2016

© Copyright 2021 hullabaloo22. All rights reserved.

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Comments

Mike S.

Another fine poem, Hully, and my pen just looks at me, and thinks, 'You want me to write THAT?' Well, at least that's the way I see it!

Thu, September 1st, 2016 7:30pm

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