PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My pencil is my best friend.

 With every thought I have, I can turn to it and just release it all.

Expressing my emotions without expressing them at all.

My pencil makes me stronger.

My pencil holds me up.

Takes all my crap.

And rarely breaks under the pressure I selfishly put on it.

My pencil is sharp.

It knows everything I know.

It helps me in my times of trouble.

Fixing my mistakes.

Wiping them away without looking back.

My pencil never changes.

Never gets mad at me for the things I say.

The things I do.

Or even the things I don't do.

My pencil holds strong.

My pencil is straight with me.

It never lies.

It never steals.

It never goes behind my back, unless I put it in my back pocket.

Yes, my pencil is always there for me, but I can't say the same for myself.

I regret how I abuse it.

How I toss it aside.

Take my anger out on it when I'm mad.

Subject it to my feelings and emotions without a care in the world for its own, because as far as I'm concerned, it doesn't have any.

I feel bad for just using it.

Giving no thanks.

No 'job well done.'

No congratulations for another successful session of dealing with me.

My pencil is not mine, but I treat it like it is.

I did not buy this pencil.

I found it.

Called it my own.

Stole its peace.

Its calm.

And you'd think I would at least have the common courtesy to stick with it until the end, but I don't.

I forget about it.

I move on to a bigger and better one.

I only think about what I want.

What I think I need.

I won't always make the choices I should, and I know I never will.

I can try my hardest, but I will find disappointment time after time again.

I can only try and make amends.

I can try and fix the past.

Find my old pencil and apologize.

Say I'm sorry.

Sorry for all the terrible things I've done.

Sorry for all the things I didn't mean to do.

And more importantly, the things I did.

Mostly I can say I'm sorry things lead to this.

And I know I can't change all the things that happened......

But at least I know I can try and make them write...... 

What's this?
I found something amiss.
There's a pencil there,
Just lying on the stair.
Picked it up and what did I find?
A pencil of the same kind
That was a month ago I lost,
And a heartache it did cost.
But here it is, good as new.
Pencil, I'm glad I found you.
If you're the same one,
Guess what! You're home!

I lost my pencil today

It slipped off the desk

As I walked away.

I went back to look

But my poor pencil

It seems someone took.

It was dear to my heart

Now it's gone for good

Forever we must part.

Goodbye, good pencil.

Be well.