Beaten and abused
Used and broken time after time again
Everytime I rupture there is this pain of becoming new again
As soon as I feel I am worthy
As soon as I feel I am sharp
I become broken again
The two sides of me become worn and tattered
As people use me to correct the mistakes they have made.
They are the one who have made the mistake, yet I pay for it.
No matter the bite marks I get, or the hands that have explicitly touch me.
Nobody keeps me for long
I become thrown on the ground
Walked all over
Though one might pick me up, I always end up back on harsh, hard flooring.
Looking up to the heavens
I grow continually weary as more and more use me.
I can feel myself shrinking into this nothingness.
They sometimes try to even disguise me to make me new again
Added accessories to me to cover up my flaws.
But under it all I am fatigued and overworked.
But under it all I still show the burnt yellow and pink top
But under it all I am still myself
For I am just a pencil.