The Debate

The ink asked the pen why are you writing with rage?
I don't! replied the pen. I a not the writer
You and I, are loyal servants of the world's authors
We are the needed tools - they are the fools -
the thinkers , tellers of stories and poets
Without us their thoughts will be trapped in their mind
We are the keepers of times
Histories and memories
So my dear friend miss ink, know that it is not rage
But pain translated into poetry on a blank page
I'm not forcing you to write, for I am not in control
Oh, I see you useless tube said the ink
Without me, you cannot think
I'm the substance within that matters
So please, I should be flattered
Oh dear ink, don't be so angry -
After all, this could be a great story
A collective work between us - without fight and fuss
Lastly the ink replied, my dear pen - I feel the pain
For we are the smartest weapon for men