Sunday, August 1, 2010

MY PEN


When the black ink of my pen,
Goes overflow.
Itself remarks about You on the pink page.
It helps me,
To remember you.
When it imagines You,
I become ecstatic.
But it seems fail,
To draw out a shape of smiling
That made me mad
A melodious voice
That is the sweetest to me
Though I love this pen a lot,
Which helps me a bit
To feel you.

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