The Pen

My hand grasps the old fashioned pen, 
and I write with an ink stricken nib.
The pen has it own stories,

dating back centuries, marking its territories.
It scribbles with no fashion, word after word,
The pen has its own mind, telling its stories every time.
The pen is smooth,
requiring a little firm handling. 
Time for the pen to go,
traveling while unravelling and babbling its stories.