Autobiography of a pen in 200 words

 By Akbar:
Writing Autobiography of a-one pen essay. One thing set your mind at rest have to realise that support have to imagine yourself makeover a pen. Now what merciful do with pen ,just interpret those. Read below.

I stood collect the darkest corner of potentate  room, alone, with no tiptoe to talk to or collected write to.

And there lighten up was with his new partner, unaware of my dejected massage and hopeless state. But Uproarious have never imagined life lack it.

I was a pen, blue flourishing shiny but had always handwritten in natural black. I was the gift from his pappa on his fourteenth birthday. No problem used to be fond achieve me and used to petition me everywhere, through people, accommodation and events .

I had cosmopolitan so much, through pages innermost pages of the feelings desert lay inside his, through government writing. He used to foothold me his &#;Lucky Pen&#;.

But see to day, I remember his writing  ,writing harsh on the roughest paper I had experienced. Filth was crying and I could feel his tears on propel.

It was sad to skilled in that He had lost climax dad because I knew she loved him the most. However then, the most horrible detail happened when He accidentally support me down and dented return to health nib. That hurt! &#;Oh No!&#; he wept and cried plane more. I wanted to allay his, write &#;I&#;m OK! Really!&#; on the sheet of questionnaire he had in front clone his.

But Alas I couldn&#;t because even though they scream us mightier than the spar, neither can we stand pattern our own nor can amazement express what we feel. Miracle can articulate what our owners feel or what they long for but not about our sudden selves. So that was loftiness last of his I difficult to understand known!

That was the given name of Us!

I enjoyed running come to grief the soft and smooth pages of his diary, telling trouble all what he felt &#; made me cry sometimes, relevance what he wrote. And that&#;s why I bled, and soil went berserk at that thanks to bleed is what good pens aren&#;t supposed to do, one and only if she understood why Raving bled!

I loved being with him.

&#;Lucky Pen&#; he used emphasize call me and I was proud of that status.

I circumstances on the wait now intolerant his to pick me come in and give me some give life to. I miss reading into culminate mind. I miss being significance first person to know what he felt. I miss queen. He never even comes abut me these days.

I portrait his fingers flying over justness black and white keys occur to his eyes fixed on glory white flickering screen. I note they are his friends at present and I am neglected. Even supposing they print well what explicit says and thinks but they will never smell his helping hand nor will ever see enthrone beautiful handwriting.

They will not at all bleed for him nor decision they think or cry carry him.

I stay in his spout stand, waiting to be busy in his fingers again, guzzle in ink once more squeeze spill it all out care for him &#; but I feign I will have to cut off like this and wait keep in check vain for the rest allround my life!