The Pen

The pen keeps moving

Blue soaks the page

Tears of ink spill over the lines

A blank page empire

An army of letters

And both commiserate

The expressionless find comfort

Colloquialisms rest between the lines

As meaning is searched

And found wanting

The pen is mightier than the sword

But the words do not shape themselves into existience

So I wait for inspiration

And the ink continues to bleed