Poetry Corner Three

The Death of the Pen

To whom it may concern,
(and it certainly concerns you).

I am writing to express my displeasure,
Though rhyme can never measure,
The depths of dispair, that nobody cares,
The pen is dying you see.

It leaves me somewhat despondent,
That the bulk of our correspondence,
Is all of the type, I'd much rather write,
The pen is dying you see.

I believe it prudent and better,
To quaintly craft a letter,
But those days are gone, and it's painfully wrong,
The pen is dying you see.

I rejoice in scribed nostalgia,
Inked words engraved with grandeur,
But no longer are stamps, replaced by email accounts,
The pen is dying you see.

Although it's departure I lament,
Without pen this poem I present,
No ink has been spilt, It's coffin I've built!
The pen is dead.