Pencil

Pencil

 

Fresh and Full eraser.

Sharp and pointed lead

Make thin, easy to be read

Lines of words lined with lead.

Hours go by,

And it’s shorter now.

You’ve sharpened too much.

But that’s okay.

Keep writing anyway.

Until the lead breaks.

The nonexistent eraser

Finally meets the snapped lead.

M.L. Wright

 

Inspiration for this poem came when I was sharpening about a billion pencils with an old timey sharpener, (this is an annual occasion) and I thought, “hey,… poetry.”

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