I bet a felt tip pen feels different in a pencil case of black biros
I bet a peacock seems strange in a flock of pigeons
I bet a monarch butterfly won’t fit in with a swarm of locusts
I bet a noble stallion can’t get along with a herd of sheep
I bet you feel out of place in the assembly hall
Surely a glittering diamond ring feels trapped in its smooth satin box
Surely a valiant lion is hemmed in by its cold steel cage
Surely a “happy birthday” balloon is shackled by its string
Surely an old guitar feels stuck in the attic it was left in
Surely you feel the chains of expectation every day as you walk out the door
I know oil and water will never mix
And there are some things sticky tape can’t fix
But how could you think of leaving us when,
You are my felt tip pen?
