I am the pencil

Ever so new and ever so old

I am treasured like gold

For all that could be told

I am the pen

That makes such beautiful stroke

When used

I make everything look so official

But if I ever run out of ink

Surely shall it be the end for me

As I say goodbye to the beautiful story striving to be told

I am the notebook

Where not only notes

Lurk about

Where every little word

Ever written down with such passion

Such passion that I know so will

That it such a beautiful mission

I am notebook that holds and molds

The world into what she holds so dearly

My pages are filled  to every little corner with rage

My pages filled with love

My pages I filled with hope and desire and ever so more

I am the paper where the pencil is destined to forever touch

I am where the pen and marker come to bring their points and die away

Where ideas flow so beautifully elegantly

Where a frustrated writer pleas with it

Where the writer cries upon

I am pencil bag

Where I hold all that writer holds dear

The pencils and pens fight

To be shown

I am almost as heavy as bar of gold

For all that I hold

The writer values and treasures just like gold

I am the erazer

I am the one who makes it go away

Oh so much left once

Now barely hanging onto my very job

I am ever so new at beginning

But now I am used and bruised

To the point where I disappoint my dear writer

Oh how can say may I  sorry

Oh dear writer

So full of ideas and hopes

I am so sorry

I hope the next meets up to your mission

I am the sharper

Where pencils come to once again relive

And sometimes to even die

I am where the points make it so

I am where the writer curses

For sometimes I break

Than the writer must start all over again

What can I say I work with all my might

I am the earbuds

That are sometimes forgotten

I am the very thing that the writer cries out loud for

Oh she cries out

Oh must

Oh must

Have them so

I am the very thing that allows the writer to be in their own world

I am the sticky note

Where ideas are scribbled on

During times that they should not be

I am the note that floats without a boat

Sometimes I am forgotten between the jeans pockets

Oh so later

I am find in crumbled and broken state in jean pocket

What can I say but sorry and pray

That another can stick around to help you out

I am the paperclip

That holds everything together

In hopes that the writers stories can be heard and told

All that hold

Is valued twenty times more valuable than gold

I am the binder

That binds the life

Of a many tales

And many joys

That will one day be heard by thousands of people

That one day will  be whispered to children as they sleep

That one day will be put on display for all to understand and open their minds to

That one day will be used as an example

In class so simple

But no one will care

As much as me

For I know

Even as I begin to break

I am all that made it possible

I am the plastic covers

That hold and protect

All that the writers writes and hopes for

I am all so much

But all so little

Treasured like gold

And show off like diamonds with such beauty inside

What is there to hide?

So I the Writer

scream out today

All that can be told to you

And to the world

Inspired by all

Shut down by none

I am the writer

Who has nevered to stop

Never questioned her gift within

I  will write even if my writing hand has fallen off

I will find a way to write with the other hand

If that falls off

I will find a way

To write with my feet

If they fall off

I will use my voice

If that fades

I will use my eyes

If that fades away

I will find some other way

For I am the writer

And I will Never stop writing

For if I do

There would be purpose for me

I am the writer

I am the lover

I am the warrior with a pen and paper

I am the storyteller

I am the poet

I am the believer of many tales

I am the writer from the day I was born until the day I die

I am the writer