I shook my pen until I found,
black ink on my face and all around.
Ink dripping down my nose and cheek,
I didn't know my pen had a leak.
My t's not crossed, no dotted i's
my paper in distress it lies,
missing the lines and dots,
covered in black inky spots.
I match my paper and like an ink well,
I'm splotched with ink and I smell,
that bland inky stench,
because the pen decided to drench.
Me from head to toe,
wreaking of ink wherever I go.
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by April Self
I shook my pen until I found,
black ink on my face and all around.
Ink dripping down my nose and cheek,
I didn't know my pen
Ink is cool
We use it to print
All our stories
It is used
For making tatoos
Ink as many
Different purposes it can
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Poetry: Ink
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