That little thing
Over there
Sitting on my desk
A simple tube of plastic
With a metal nub
Filled with ink
With a label on the side
A freebie from the doctor's office
I visited for my check up
What they call advertising
I call life

The pen
Taken for granted
All shapes
All sizes
All colors
All materials
We all have a pen
Chewed on
Sat on
Broken and smashed
But do we stop
And think
What really is in
My pocket
Purse
Backpack
Car
Desk
Room
?

Who has declared independence?
Conquered nations?
Defeated swords?
Felled armies?
Dropped atomic bombs?
Created art?
Wrote that symphony?
Ordered his death?
Drew that museum piece?
Aced my test?
Created it?
Planned the building of monuments?
Outlined their destruction?
Signed my paycheck?
Wrote that poem?
Told those stories?
Agreed to my education?
Allowed me to drive my car?
To fly?
To travel?

What really is hidden in
My pocket
Purse
Backpack
Car
Desk
Room
?

Nothing
But a tube of plastic
With a metal nub
Filled with ink