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Personifying a Pencil
I feel so used
Waiting for this pain and misery to be over with.
The constant stabs against the paper leave me with a cavity
every mistake another migraine pounding in my head
Please let it stop
I plead and I beg
When will this horrific torture end?
Those children do not understand
How fragile I am
Not to be thrown, snapped, or chewed
Stuck behind an ear
My skin like paper shredded to bits
Every time you decide to put my tip in that thing
It hangs on the shelf and menacingly awaits
Watching and staring at me
I’m driven out of my wits
The children sneering as my face is searing
The smarter they are the more I burn away in their hand
My friends are always left behind
They’re the lucky ones, I’m the favorite
Used and bruised
And eventually broken to a point of no return
Wasted away
Just to be replaced by a pen that is working
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