My Pen of Different Colors
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