Pen With Reason

The pen is not without reason,

every single rhyme on every single day,

tells a different story

a different rhythm,

A lover burning in the fire of separation,

is not moved until by chance,

his eyes set eye on his mistress' clicks,

for a moment his world stops for the cherished memory,

where ever he is working

where ever he is speaking,

he has once to stop to sigh,

a deep one to keep it all going,

he, among the nobles, keeps

his tears in his eyes and float in the night,

for people with a deep eye has a big heart,

and with a big one has a big eye,

A man toiling in a fought field,

to build a shelter for his blood,

keeps beside his self esteem

and his head down for his child,

who is busy feeding a girl,

of five more than his figures,

ready for cuting his own neck,

kicking the worth of his father's kidney,

let all these be going quietly,

and let's keep a finger on the mouth,

for we have known but never looked,

that a pen is not without reason.