A poem I wrote for Agents, and the contracts we write........

I take my against my pad and what I see it's not half bad, I make a turn a curve a twist, oh no I really can't resist.

My ink is flowing from my pen again and again and again and again. In my hand is my tiny sword, an  instrument

  that I must hoard and as my pen begins to dance my mind slips deeper into a trance, my pen creates many

things you see, my pen is obedient only to me, and now it's time that I must go for now my ink is flowing slow.