THE GIFT
Happy with me
For, I don’t know
Which reason,
God gave me a pen
A slim silvery pen
That glittered like the moon
Such that I could use it only
During the day
Pride, vanity, conceit
Forced me to parade my glory everywhere
It’s slight, light, sparkling liquid
Filled the hearts of many with envy
While others adored my hand
But one day, oh it failed me
In front of so many
It refused to write
It dared run blank
In front of my fans
I explained, stroked, convinced
I doodled, scribbled, scrawled,
I still had a blank paper
Red in the face, I smiled and dropped the pen
If mistake is human
The contrary is true too
Human is a mistake
I mean we make mistakes
Without the pen I was nothing
Shunned, spurned and ignored
I came to retrieve my savior
Dead on the floor
Spilled blood from its jugular,
A tear, gloom or guilt
I picked up the head under the chair
Nothing is impossible they say,
So I am here, trying to fill back
A puddle of ink in a pen.
Qurayshiah DURBARRY.
