By D.G. Snapper

Oh no!

Not again.

Why me?

This pen!

I unscrew the lid

And check the ink holder

The color is all there

But angered, the author

The pen I rebuild

Then place on the table

It should work

But why isn’t it able?

The price wasn’t high

But I only got one

This ballpoint pen as a toy

Yet it’s everything but fun

I take it to my hand

The ballpoint to paper

I scratch and I scribble

But it doesn’t cater

No ink was spilled

No writing done

Will it force me to ask

From the store a refund?

Again to the test

The paper it killed

I look online

The ratings are nil

I check the instructions

And then the reviews

It makes me think

This thing belongs in the pews

Into the trash

Is where it resides

Its failure was epic

Since it no longer abides

The ballpoint dismissed

The pen now gone

I repass the carnage

The pen had run

Paper scratched through

Knuckles clenched white

Made my anger boil

About this I must write

So this is what you read

My not-too-epic legends

The trouble I’ve had

And the fate of dead pens

D.G._Snapper_(2)Fourteen-year-old D.G. Snapper lives in Southwest Virginia with her Christian family and a dog who can’t decide whether he wants to sleep or run around the house in laps. Her writing hobby began nearly two and a half years ago, inspired by the fact that most of the books in the young adult and children’s sections at the library were gory and/or inappropriate. A desire to write was kindled out of a hope to write a God-glorifying novel and her love of writing has grown since then. She loves medieval fantasy and historical fiction, and envisions her novels standing out among the other books on the library shelves.