Ode to the Pencil

January 13, 2018
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You
pencil
all rough
and woody
that graphite smell
as you
glide across the page
transmitting my thoughts into words
as if you are reading
my mind.

Now it’s the 21st
century
you get pushed
to the side
as the clickity clack
of computers
on digital paper
dominate our world.

You lay
in the desk
gathering dust
forgotten
your mind reading properties
lay unused
the smell of graphite
gone






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