Fat Pen in my hand,
Black ink flowing from fat to thin
With a little glob of black
Left on the tip.
Oh Fat Pen.
My beloved treasure.
So full of ink and promise,
Truly a Pilot of my imagination;
Tank! in the background,
Three, two, one, let's jam!
Spies running, making escape,
Yet here you are, Fat Pen,
Chillin' in my hand.
You're not escaping, silly thing.
You wouldn't,
Because you know:
You're my favorite Fat Pen in the whole world.
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