Life is a pencil.
I scribble and scribble tornadoes to
use the lead as quick as possible to
forget the time lost
until the blunt tip gives in to
metal holding the
erasure
of all
worth.
Will my legacy be meaningless lines,
poetic words or
simply nothing?
Dec 18, 2024
Dec 18, 2024 at 8:23 AM UTC
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