My Pen of Different Colors

My Pen of Many Colours

You were the perfect gift for me as a young boy

I remember the little secrets we scribbled on my pad

The thrill I felt surge through my whole body when I switched colors

The big lump I felt on my throat when my friend asked to play with you

Jealousy has always been my vice, which you know

You taught me many things most of which I uphold to date

Remember MaryAnn? The girl I had a crush on

You wrote, ‘You’re my sweet potato’ on the note that changed my life

Lord, that girl was fine, for a 10 year old

I hold you close for even at a tender change; you transformed my perception from a single ray of plain white light through a prism to beautiful, vast colors

My pen of many colors, my darling

You understand me more than anyone else I have ever had in my life does

You articulate and match my moods with color like rainbows and the rainy season

You separate what is not valid from what is

Like your invisible ink is to your bright crimson red

At my weak moments, when the sun is scorching overhead and my frame is weary

You are the mirage that keeps me moving with the hope of a nearby oasis

Darling, you have been my eyes, serving more purpose than just sight

You weep for me in words and unexplainable fashion when my eyes will not shed a tear

You let it all out on paper as she soaks them deep down and turns them

To manuscripts with beautiful memoirs and lessons

They separated us in that school where I had to settle for many pens each with one color

The teacher thought you were too much, unprofessional

I held you close, tucking you inside my shirt pocket, closest at heart

You bled on my shirt; the emotion was too strong as you could feel my heart pump, beat

With every tense moment that raised my heartbeat, you wished I would hold you

And put it down on paper, as I used to do years ago

A virgin to the cruel world where people hate pens

I outsmarted them though, I bought you a partner, confidant, a diary

You were alive once again. Jotting down the day’s events during preps under a textbook

I enjoyed reading our escapades on Saturdays during group discussions

You filled up the diary; I got another, then another, and another

The closer I came to finish my four years, the more I learnt

MaryAnn was still at heart but she was far and had moved on, or so I thought

I had met another, you hated her, saying I should stick to my first love

As you did with me, my darling of many colors

You taught me consistency and commitment pays off

You taught me to see the world in a special way but never compromise on who I am

I finally finished high school and joined campus

Different people, different ethnicities, different personalities

I was happy to live on my own; I brought all my diaries with me

You kept them company, atop the table I used as a dressing mirror in my bedroom

Next to the bible and my notes

Something had changed though; it was not you darling it was I

See I had grown up now, no longer a ‘child.’ Diaries were for woosies and the sentimental

I was now a man, conditioned to a certain mode of dressing

To fit in, I had to revert to the one-color-ink pens, and tuck them closest to the heart

Every time I came home, I could see the schmuck on your face, disgruntled, feeling like a housewife

I was not carrying you anymore; my embrace was a memory to you as days went on

You hated it when I placed that single-lane pen next to you

It broke my heart, not for long though as my fascination turned from my escapades to what happens in the world around me

I was excited to start working in an office, always in a suit, with the single-lane pen close at heart

Little did I notice my life was being transformed by this pen

I was becoming more of a zombie; I found no joy in my routine

Wake up, breakfast, brush my teeth and shower, go to work, leave work, go home and sleep

Repeating that schedule for six day a week, and my Sundays were the busiest

It took a toll on me, I started showing up late

My performance plummeted from the heights I was basking in, demotion was not enough

So here we are, me packing my stuff in boxes as I prepare to move to another house

I come across your partner and sit on the floor as I wallow in emotion

I remember the innocence, the conviction that I could conquer anything

The will to fight for love even as a young boy

The need for personal evaluation and personal joy

The many lines representing opportunities one can get in this life

I relate with it more now than I did even as a kid

You made me realize what I had to do throughout my entire life as a kid

Even when I could not comprehend half of what I was doing

I am in touch with reality now more than I have ever been in my whole life

Who would have thought?

I would lose a job only to find solace in you, my darling

My eye when I cannot shed a tear, I understand what caring really means

You rejuvenate me and give me another option, another color, another point of view

Now whatever comes I will face it and surpass it, one way or another

One color or another, all thanks to you

My pen of many colors

P.S

Keep in mind that no matter how long the night may seem to be, it is always the same old 12 hours. Eventually light comes through the horizon, but then again, the day lasts for the same time as the night and it is not guaranteed to change anything. However, your attitude towards everything is a guarantee to change; good or bad, always face the world with an open mind. If the plan fails, fall back and find another way, another color.

© 2017 Daniel Ngetich