Writing on the wall

I discovered something when
I picked up something called a pen.
What an amazing thing it was
Once I figured out what it does.
Up and down in the hall
Across, around, and down the wall.
Scribble Scrabble on the floor
My own little art work on the door.
I soon got caught
With the pen in my hand.
There was no denying it
So I ran.
I threw the pen down and made a
getaway.
I didn't want to hear what my parents
had to say.
The art wasn't bad, not bad at all
But not half as bad as writing on the
wall.