Pen

I write with it almost everyday
I always have a lot to say
It used to have four colours bright
But now I’ve crushed them with my might
Now the only colours left
Are blue and red but they’re the best
It’s as old as god himself
Yet it is not worth any wealth
On the side it says made in France
Which really makes me want to dance
My pen is blue and white and black
But is never ever slack
It has a crack right down the side
Which it shows with mighty pride
And never ever tries to hide
My pen has always been there for me
It makes me feel as though I’m free
My pen is good, my pen is great
My pen is now my best mate