Ordinary, Mundane, Trivial.

A thin rod of yellow, a wooden stick of nothing special.

Something of not much value,

hardly any in fact.

Constantly pushed aside and forgotten,

misplaced or broken.

Who cares if you're broken?

Simply find a new one.

Just look on any classroom floor.

Why are you regarded so lightly?

It's not like you grow on trees.

Oh wait,

you do!

That was an ineffective demonstration

of your hidden value.

I apologize.

Forgive me.

You mean much more than that.

You are a stick of creative potential.

An under appreciated object just waiting for your chance

to show your talents and skills to the world,

kind of like some people you work for.

All of your effort and nothing much to show for it;

but still,

you help us persevere.

You can be inspiring, yes,

helpful, that too;

but you can be cruel as well.

Sometimes you assist in the creation of a cold rejection letter

without a care who it affects

or whose heart you crush.

Despite your occassional cruelty,

you are a good companion.

You accompany us through lands of magic,

worlds of dystopian horror,

even through our implausible

and seemingly impossible dream lands of fantasy.

You are a thin yellow train that we may ride

into the oblivion that is our own imaginations.

You can be impulsive.

Sometimes you have no filter,

much like the hand that holds you.

But you can be passionate, too,

making our thoughts and emotions appear

on a blank and discouraging page.

For that we thank you.

You lay amiably in our hands

waitng for our sparks of creation

to ignite the fire of someone's untold legacy.

But while you give life

you also give death.

Your sharp lead point

can be the blade of a reaper's scythe.

Even in our dream worlds, the outside must intervene.

You have the power to bring the greatest hero

upstairs to eternal harmony

or to bring the fiercest villain

downstairs to burn.

All it takes is a few swipes against a sea of white.

You communicate our wills

to the audience we aim to inspire.

Without you, our favorite fantasy worlds would not exist.

We owe you.

Thank you for you dedication.

Ode to a Writer's Pencil.