I had a waste basket full of trash
paid bills
marketing materials
used tissue paper…
a broken toy
a banana peel
a hand written note
to do lists

and then there was a pen
I am not sure if it fell in there
or it had reached it’s end of life…

Sometime people also are like these pens…
They jump into trash way early..
there is always an end of life…
but till then…
keep writing…

the power of the pen
is not in the color of ink it spills
but the power of the word it spells…

Same are people…
it is not the color
but the power of attitude
the power of compassion
the power of being human
the power of being good

Categories: Poetry