Folktale Week : Ink

I am tasked with many

Things you see

My arms - they play a part. 

I have one that sorts the laundry

And another that creates the art.

Another that even holds a book

Though to read it…

When will I start?

And another that takes a photograph

And captures a heart to heart.

I have one that holds a tissue

For every time I have to sneeze

And another that just waves around

And does whatever it may please.

You would think with all I can do

I’d be on top of every task

But I tend to shake and quiver

Whenever there’s an ask.

I let out a yelp and whimper

And then make my escape known

Leaving a trail of ink behind

The darkest black in tone.