Mighty

The ink simply refused to flow,

When I picked up

My favourite Hero,

A Chinese make.

Black body with a golden cap       

That faded with time

Yet reminding stood

The many exams battled –

And conquered smoothly;

The speed maintained

By my fingers holding gently

The thing of past now.

With no ink around

Water came to its rescue;

The nib reacted with a jerk or two –

Splashed a few drops            

When pressed on to the paper;

A little scratch, then light and bright

“Life” it entered with a clear “if”.

The mighty hero a fighter till date

Refused to let go its valour

My pen, my companion.

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