Purple Pen

Oh purple pen,
Writing implement of my dreams
You dot my I’s and
Cross my T’s.
My heart sings when
I place you on my blank page
You glide.
So silky, so smooth.
how can one express themselves
In only black and white?
Words march like ants
All in a row.
But you
liven the page
As only a secondary color can.
Flying through
Wreaking havoc
Smudgy and splotchy
A free spirit
Sometimes unreadable
Mostly just loveable
Words flow like lava
Erupting from my head
Through my arm
To my hand
And out of your little metal tip.
The pressures of black ink
and the bondage of blue
ripped through by your radience
Purple squiggles
That periodically form sentences
And most times just doodles
Equally purple