when a pen
runs out of ink.
my favorite pen,
the one that came in a
package of ten
from the grocery store.
i've had this pen for
seven years
and it's never let me
down
until now.
i shake it, tap it
against the desk.
not a drop of black
ink in it.
i hold it up to the light
and shake my head.
what's going on here.
nothing, nothing
ever seems to last.
there's tragedy all
around us.
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