No. 2 No More
The pencil is broken.
Why should I resharpen it
if it will just break again?
For every time I try to give it life,
I am breaking the wood,
wearing away at the pink gummy structure,
filling graphite with negativity.
The pencil is broken,
and I am the one breaking it.
One thought on "No. 2 No More"
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The title makes this poem even more evocative!