My Pen Hammers

 
I shimmer in glamour.
With a pen.
Built like a hammer.
Nailing the pitch.
Flipping the switch.
To rhymes.
My ink has to stitch.
Into deafening grammar.

Without a speech.
Let go of controls.
In a direction.
That nobody knows.
While it panders.
It's a nitch.
That's how I write this shit.
Pardon the candor.

My pen always clammers.
To dabble in space.
On paper.
Impossible to trace.
On a gamble.
While etching a face.
The lines.
Form lasting taste.
With only words I've rambled.