Pen

I am a tiny weapon for the deft hands of men

Once I was the silent fighter of the struggle for freedom 

Which manifested unprecedented awakening and impulsion 

Sometimes I become the mere catalyst to mitigate the persisted boredom. 

 

Some people keep me in the pocket to demonstrate the social vanity

Sometimes some writers have unwillingly invited violence for them

Again I become the best panacea to enhance society's dignity

I always love to expose the disparity, exploitation, discrimination, and shame.

Though I am a negligible segment of human life but still portray the significance

As destitute of my presence writers' world will be in massive darkness

I never demand recognition, status, and copious designations 

But society deliberately pours on me unstinted accolades. 

Almighty has bestowed me a very small shaped life

But still, I never fear, never lament as I am the precious part of the writer's pleasure, sorrows, struggle, and strife.