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The life of a Pencil

I have been pushed and pulled, Across an empty expanse, Growing smaller and smaller with time. Used until nothing was left for me to do. I watched as they used others, breathing life within their blood. That once blank place. That once ivory place. That once is no more. Now I see, How I was used, What they created with me, to start, to sketch, to create.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2024




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things