My pen is rich
She's eager to speak
My pen is bold
She yearns to mold
Her anger at my neglect
She voices without regret
Wallowing in her tears of ink
She pleads to my sense of reasoning hoping I'll have a rethink.

But I offer nothing in return
Except for tears of regret
I have failed her
For if knowledge is light
And the application of knowledge is power
Then why I'm I powerless against the growling of my empty tummy
My heart is in union with my pen
But my tummy rebels
My hand longs to do her bidding
But my tummy thunders his disdain at my folly with a fruitless venture.

If the pen is mightier than the sword
Then why as she not fought my way out of this endless maze of despiar
I long to aid my pen in writing a wonderful ballad so the world can marvel in awe
I long to stand beside her as she regales me with her endless tales of wonders
I long to follow her to the ends of the earth even as I remain in my room
But while I remain a slave to my tummy
I will seek his consent.








By Olajide Ojedokun