My Pen
I carry pen and paper everywhere
And some have asked why
I do it because my lips fail
My tongue stutters
My teeth carve words sloppily
My mouth refuses to accept my thoughts
My cheeks redden
I bow my eyes in embarrassment
People murmur sympathetically
Then continue the conversation without me
But writing is different
My pen never fails
My hand never falters
Neat cursive soon fills pages
My ideas spewing out
Sprawling across notebooks
Pages struggle to contain the weight of my mind
Writing is my way of communication
My way to connect with the world
Writing is the only option I have
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