The Epic of the Pen

The pen on the paper was lying
It thought it found peace and prosperity
But it only found hollow words
And empty promises

Why has the muse forsaken me?! 
Asked the pen of the paper

When will she return?

The paper gave the pen a blank stare
It was a blank slate with no words and no answers

The pen laid down for a while and looked up at the ceiling
It rolled onto the floor and bounced around
Got toyed with and batted around by a cat
Almost mangled by a vacuum
Spent some time underneath the fridge observing the kitchen and collecting dust

The pen was eventually found by a hand
And put on the table again next to the paper

It was overjoyed to be back
It flowed and flowed with words and stories of where it had been
What it had seen

Life is a muse
Don't wait for it to happen while you are busy
Trying to write about it.