A Mad Pen
Don’t mind me! I am just a mad pen. Ignore me, or walk over me, trample my words. What? No. Why should I mind? Trampled things make sense and speak louder. A mad pen in a mad rush
Don’t mind me
if I walk right through you to express
that like a revolving door you open
up before going, once more, back to
being shut.
Don't mind the dyes dear. I don't use
the colours. I use blood.