The Gold Pen
Since, the day
My fiancée left, this gold pen
Was never use, it was her
Gift, to me
On my birthday
Yes, I used it many times
Writing her, poetry
Of love
Our happiness
Our dreams
Though, it has a fine Indian ink
And, it writes well, I have no
Intention, of using it
But, I always
Kept it, in my pocket, everyday
Why?
I don’t even know why
Surely, I know she is now, the
Sweet darling, of others…
A catchy title, fitting
Only
For
My sorrow, every ink drop of
Her, gold pen
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