I thought I`d try a new pen
In my aim to write a decent rhyme,
Maybe my old ink was addled
And I`ve just been wasting time.
This silver pen I now hold
Sparkles as I write,
I feel it will not let me down
Unless it`s just for spite.
If it thinks I`ve now turned posh
and writing above my station
It would probably show me up
And ruin my vocation.
So I won`t start my rhyme
Until this pen is broken in,
As soon as I feel it trusts me
Then I will begin.