Last week I bought a new pen, it’s beautiful

A subtle silver with a gold lid

If Shakespeare had had this pen

He may have wrote poetry even more influential than he did

But there is one problem….

My pen has a mind of its own!

 

Last night I wanted to write about my late Nanna’s cat that would flap the letter box when he wanted to come in

But my pen wrote about a sex marathon he had with a parker in a bin!

I cannot tell you the fine details of what he wrote

It is far too explicit, I fear my profile would be removed

And Mr Paul Blackburn would send round heavies to break my legs and steal my shoes!

 

I have tried desperately to write with different tools

But my pen is jealous, sadistic and cruel

He has the ability to give me writers block

And the power to make the flow of my ink stop

With an uncanny irony in this tale

The ink in my haunted pen has never failed!

 

Fellow poets the time has come for me to ask your advice

Should I give up? Let the pen write what he wants to write?

Maybe it is haunted by the soul of someone who never said what they wanted to say when alive?

Maybe it is a soul who is determined to express them self second time around?

Maybe it’s my suppressed ego?

Which just happens to be a sex crazed nympho!

 

My efforts to be rid of this pen have all failed

I even reported it to the police! But I was informed a pen cannot legally be jailed!

For days I left it in my pocket, a place all my other pens have kicked the bucket

But this pen thrived! He even found my old biro and fucked it!

So on top of it all, my pen is a perve! A freak of nature, a nechrolphiliac!

And it is me that is forced to write of its encounters! 

Friends I may have to retire, so don’t be insulted if I don’t message you back L