My Pen & Paper

My pen is just an object; my paper's just there
My words are unaccomplished because my letters do not care
My Lonely Pen is dying because it wrote a cheating simile
My Lovely Paper cut itself sbecause it wanted to please me
My Pen and Paper wish they were together
Its almost like they're ment to be "one" until forever
My Pen is still inking, alone, and in the cabnet
My Paper is still bleeding and the words have almost had it
I picked up My Pen and I placed it on My Paper
My Pen wrote a few stiches then it rolled off the table
My Paper was greatfull but it slowly started to wrinkle
It knew My Pen was out of ink because the stiches were feeble
It crumbled and it ripped itself; then the wind took it away
A peice of paper drifted to the table, and that is were it lay
I looked down to the floor to see the lovely dead
But i looked back to the table. The Pen's ink was now red