The Old Typewriter

The Old Typewriter

It just sat there 

Quietly in the corner 

Gathering dust like something new

Maybe it knew something would happen not yet thought through 

The experience that it had performed on pages was especially true 

Barely able to contain words that it knew

Anxiously wanting to place vocabulary on paper for all to view 

Within the machine it felt special mightiness 

Considered itself to possess an ability of using words with distinctiveness 

Wanting to entertain 

But without any pain

Creating something not so plain 

Being left alone for so long seemed unjustified 

Coming back to life to create a new vibe 

It was as if the words had never died

Just need an opportunity for it's world to describe 

Waiting for someone to touch the keys once again to breathe stories back to reality and through this vehicle into written life

Never forget about the old typewriter