I have a story of an unhappy quill
That's sure to shed some small light
On the mindset of our artistic tools
And the events leading up to our plight

You see, when a quill feels quite..unfulfilled
It will stop any writing forthwith
And with its mind set to be stubborn and coy
It shoos inspiration via pith!

Now pith is a word meaning strength and vigor
And that's just what a mean quill can have!
You cannot restore its hurt feelings or such
With any healing or cool mending salves

So their feelings stay hurt till you speak to them
And mend their poor feathery, broken hearts
And just saying thank you once in awhile
Will prevent it all before it starts

They will take credit for all of your works
Until you take credit yourself
And if you don't thank the powers that be
You may as well put your work on the shelf

So remember to thank your silvery quills,
And your quills with the worn down nubs
The ones with less flair or color or sheen
Or you're sure to find yourself snubbed

And once you are snubbed, you cannot write
And then you'll be in real trouble
For a quill is the tool of the muses, you see
And no muse makes your plight worsely double.

Penned by my hand on the 18th of Scarlatan, in the year 397 AF.