My given name is pen <br />My price is Rupees ten <br />I in reality don’t know when <br />And how I am utilized by men <br /> <br />My cap is my pillow <br />Its colour is whitish yellow <br />My nip is my brain <br />That lets my ink wane <br /> <br />My heart is my refill <br />That lets me stand still <br />My blood is my ink <br />That flows only when you think <br /> <br />My job is to write <br />On books, paper and kite <br />When I actually do so <br />my ink level keeps becoming low <br /> <br />I can scepter some ones life <br />And let some one leave their wife <br />I was given birth by man <br />So he can use me as he can<br /><br />bhupender swarnakar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pen-17/
