My Blue Pen

Time and again,

like a distracting friend,

I space out from class

with my blue pen.

It outshines my black pen,

but not as selfish as red

and helps express the thoughts

that scurry about my head.

Sometimes I just doodle,

when I’ve got nothing on my mind.

Sometimes I draw my teachers,

if they’re the evil kind.

Sometimes I write this poem,

although this would be the first.

Sometimes my teacher glares at me—

I’d better get back to work.