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A Missing Pencil
I see them pat their chest pocket
 a perturbed look upon their face
 lips pursed, eyes in disarray.
 They’d swear to you it was there a second ago.
 
 I see them take their palms and bang against the table
 searching under ungraded papers
 or overdue tax returns.
 I mistake all this for rage
 and cower back in my seat
 in sheer and utter fear.
 
 I can’t help but feeling 
 I am in some jungle setting
 simply observing a hunt
 an angry large wooly gorilla
 a mother slamming her tough-skinned fists
 upon the ground
 chasing after a large silverback
 who just so happened
 to steal her last bamboo shoot.
 
 I can’t help but empathize
 With this large, tough-skinned creature
 or simply careless human being.
 The endless search for something that isn’t there
 the things we tend to see
 in a different shade of light than reality
 the many things we swore we left
 in places they mysteriously disappeared from.
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