Tuesday 8 January 2013

Pen and Paper

O robber you came to steal from me
Thinking you would go off with more than enough
Only to realize I had nothing but a pen and paper in the bag I carried
You left angry, leaving me beaten black and blue
But what you did not realize, was that the pen and paper meant a lot more to me than the silver or gold you desired
For they are the instruments I shall use to impact my world
And so many lives around me
Even yours I hope
If our paths ever cross again, which I shall be glad, if they do
I may not be so forgiving as Pope John Paul the 2nd
But I would surely not leave you in the same way you left me.

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