With my red pen
so many words to write.
So many sentences
to write
with my red pen.
So many paragraphs
to write
with my red pen.
So many stories
to write
with my red pen.
So many books
to write
with my red pen.
So many oceans
to write
with my red pen.
So many lives
to write
with my red pen.
So many worlds
to write
with my red pen.
But my red pen
Has run out of ink.
(Editorial commentary: I think this poem is clever and imaginative. I like the repetition in it. I think it works. That-away-to-go, River!)
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