This poem eulogizes and upholds the beauty and power of pen

Our Pen.

By Izunna Okafor

With our pen we speak,
Not that our voice is raised at peak.
The ink outpoured by Pengicians
Appears like rays of stars in the bans of magicians


Who brought the pen to the earth
With which the men have grained and breathe
The lower ones are great at lens
Crawled before but now slate the fence
The cap of knowledge from which intellectuals tap
Flowing endlessly as it crawls around with gap.


The papers obey her rule
Heeding to every drop if the blue
I blaze and graze when I smell the grains it creates
My pen my pen oh I bow in the midst if flames, thou art great.


I love my pen
I love my pen
In the midst of men,
Oh I raise my pen.

© Izunna I. Okafor