The Pen
I took a pen to battle
to fight against my foes,
for mightier than sword is pen,
so the old saying goes.
But they must not have known it,
’cause they didn’t run away,
but stood and laughed and mocked me
standing amidst the fray.
“What are you going to do?
Write us all to death?”
one said as he approached,
so I calmly took a breath,
and poked him in the eye
with my most mighty pen.
He swung and missed (strike one!)
but actually hit his friend
who had started running at me,
but now tumbled to the floor,
taking down his neighbors
in rows 2 and 3 what’s more.
He swung again (the first one)
but missed again (strike two!)
and took down more compatriots
(they numbered not a few).
A third swing flew, then 4, 5, 6,
(Hey- shouldn’t you be out?)
More and more comrades fell
the more he’d swing and pout.
And when the dust then settled
they’d all fallen to the ground.
Complaints and groaning whimpers
were heard the only sound.
I slowly approached the leader
(the one with the swollen eye)
who was pinned beneath his neighbors
and looking up to curse the sky.
“Be Gone!”, I said, “And don’t come back!
If you do, know this, my defense’ll
be stronger, for you won’t face pen.
Next time I’ll bring a pencil!”
