I was a celebrated darling sibling for you, man,
That for your every walk of life, I was your spirit,
I was your backbone, I was your home-mate,
And I was your pal of all pals, always right.
For daily mundane in the kitchen, a diary
the homemaker keeps scribbling about the needs
And I, as her brother advises her, not to be weary,
And list her usable items, that she cannot avoid.
Deliver Writers their babies from their
wombs of thoughts with my help, providing
special loving care for their newborns and I
readily travel with them wherever they go.
Clerks, officers, railway ticket examiners, doctors
none are absent in my counting column,
and I am there to keep the records of farmers
and their masters selflessly and that is solemn.
Delightfully I lie or sleep in my places,
allotted by the intellectuals and even pupils;
I take a rest joyfully, sitting in the seat
that people offer me in their apparel.
Alas! All my celebrity status has vanished,
The cruel computers and phones encroached on
To my compound and I am thrown in a waste bin,
I, your PEN, see my demise, losing the state sacred.
