Matching Pens

A simple tool, insignificant thing,
some that die, and some that sing.
Brightly coloured, a creative glow,
small vessel to help us share what we know.

I have one, and you've got one too,
a small thing that I gave from me to you.
I have. Had. The one that I lost,
Sometimes it feels my imagination tossed,

I might have lost mine, but there's no need to cry,
because your smile of joy when you first go to try,
The gift that I gave you, our brushes that matched,
We were suddenly closer like a ball and a bat.

I see in your pocket, your gateway to gold,
I wonder what's drawn, what stories you've told,
just like mine did, before it was gone,
but the things it created still linger on.

And when you show me your writing, your special piece,
It's beautiful words, creativity feast.
Most people replace them, I've had at least ten,
but ours mean more, our once-matching pens.