Laments of A Pen

My ball-point rolls over
pages lined with lists.
Is this what has been written?
My computerized counterpart,
the keyboard, has relegated
me to menial things. messages,
notes, groceries, schedules,
lists. I miss my days atop
the literary chain. Days when
typewriters were too much work
for typical transactions,
when laptops were nothing more
than future science fiction.
And amidst my lamentations,
all it seems I still have left
is I'm not rusting like the sword.
No, I am still the mighty pen.