I Am A Pen
I am a pen,
originated from the United States of America,
made in Singapore.
That is where I am from.
I used to sit
by the window pane and live out my life as an accessory,
now my function changed,
there is no more sitting.
My new owner,
comes from Taiwan but often travels around the world to share Word,
brought me to Hong Kong.
That is my new found home.
Now I'm writing.
My purpose changed as my owner uses me to write the great news,
"Salvation is here."
But look at me right now,
I don't belong.
I stand out among other pens like a different kind, sticking
out like a sore thumb.
Like a pain in the neck.
I write like them,
how am I any different from them aside from my appearance?
Ah, maybe my past.
Different is not good.
I would wonder
why me as I often struggle between my old and new purpose.
This is what I am,
I am a messed up pen.
Dear new owner,
do I exist to write or to sit there like a decoration?
Tell me, what am I?
Am I worth any more.
***
This a piece I wrote for my hall's event with the prompt below. It was based on my own feelings towards how my TCK (Third Culture Kid) background has impacted my life. It has, then, won first place. Though I don't think it deserved such a place, I am glad to be able to share a simple piece of me with them.
P r o m p t :
"Where am I coming from?" Feel free to focus on how you've been shaped by your past experiences including your relationships, culture, environment, identity formation, or testimony. Fiction is allowed so this does not necessarily have to be about your own past but it should focus on where someone is coming from rather than on where they are going. This is merely a launching pad and your piece does not need to strictly fit within this theme.
