there’s been many a night
in the darkness of
alone
where I sit with
the reaper's hand on
my shoulder
and before he leaves
he always says
see ya someday
but I never much
care because
he tells a mean
joke
and the lights of the city
are dimming
and the leaves on the trees
are changing
and the bell in the church
is tolling
and I can’t stop it
so many nights
dueling the shadows
and changing seasons
and all my pen
ever finds
to say is
is this it?
Ben Paynter
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-my-pen-ever-says/
