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To Whomever Picks Me Up
Handle me
 while I handle your ideas,
 for your knowledge belongs to me. 
 I am the weapon you choose
 to carry out the war of your words. 
 You will use me
 and sharpen me
 till you've made your point.
  
 I will transfer each of your thoughts
    through every swift stroke.
 I will conduct the symphony of
    words, phrases, punctuation.
 I will help spill the stains
    of your mind, poisoning paper
    with crumbs of my immortality.
  
 and these remnants on paper-- 
 caged between blue lines-- 
 will  l i n g e r
 until my enemy erases every
 shread of my 
 being.
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