Time To Hold The Pen

I started writing when I had no one left to talk to. no one to listen no one to understand I looked around for a friend, for someone who would stay-- but everyone was gone, even those I stood beside their dark phases So I picked up a pen. The paper become my only friend. I poured all my pain on it, ink became my tears. I moved on. I thought those memories stopped hurting but now I feel the same pain again once more its time "To Hold The Pen"