-Pencil meets blank page…
scribbles a few words,
waits for reaction from page…
page doesn’t say anything.

-Pencil feels bolder,
writes a line, then another…
nothing can stop pencil now,
writes this, writes that…

-Page begins to feel
it’s being taken for granted,
shouts, ‘hold it, pencil!’
you’re all over me,
what do I get out of this?

-Why page, we work together,
I show you & you show the world,
I’m the vehicle, you’re the highway,
I’m the wave, you’re the shore.

-Page thinks about it…
You know, says page, I guess
some of us are born to pencil,
& others are born to page.


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