Life of a use and throw pen

I am a use and throw pen.
My life full of pain.
Many of my brothers are in drain.
Many of them are slain.

I am of no use when I lack ink.
People throw me off,
When my refill starts to blink.
Nobody loves me,
None takes care.
As my life is a hell's stair.

Every body rubs my ink red.
They don't care even if my colour fade.
They think me taken for granted.
They are the real criminals,
Whom police wanted.

By Caesar Borgia