The Yellow Pen

Exposed to the sunlight,
the pen twinkles day and night.
Every time its used, it flows freely,
and makes me smile.

Recieved at the age of nine,
its worn out and doesn't work,
but its still a beautiful object. It hasn't lost its dignity, and it still shines bright.

It sits on the white ledge of the window,
providing a refuge for the plain colour.
Although it lies silently, I can tell it wants to be used once more.

Still beautiful and shiny as every, the yellow pen.