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If I were a pencil
February 1, 2019
If I were a pencil,
The perfect utensil,
For writing and drawing,
But why gnawing?
If I were a pencil,
An important essential,
Sharp and fine,
Rough from pine.
If I were a pencil,
With assistants and helpers,
From erasers to sharpeners,
A shiny dark color.
But one day I’ll be,
Forgotten forever,
My friends and me,
Altogether.
Too short and too dirty,
Too dull and too old,
However my story,
Will one day unfold.
© Michael H., Mildford, CT
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This poem is about the little things in life, like a pencil, that we often forget and don't care about although they are so crucial in our life. Imagine not having a pencil to use anymore, how would you feel?