In this floating box of nothing
Sits a speck of shavings
From an overused eraser
That grows older than death

The cousin with all the power
Sitting across like a stranger
Is known as the pencil
Who never amounted to anything

As hard as they try
As long as they wait
As patient as they are
Their job always fails

But they aren't cautious
They are always aware
That the true failure
Is their subconscious master