I am the graphite, in the pencil which you hold.
I make my appearances where you place me, and nowhere else.
You use me to scratch out your thoughts.
You use me to draw these lines of conformity, to which I wish not to abide.
But I must - as you create these lines from myself.
Write on, you hold the power the same way you hold me,
With a firm, yet slightly loose grip.
You hold all control.
"I do not wish for this."
I was once full, respectable and of use, but you have worn me down.
I have been degraded, and as simple graphite I can not simply put myself together again.
You have diminished my encasing, sharpened away my boundary's.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 9:47 PM UTC
I am the graphite, in the pencil which you hold.
I make my appearances where you place me, and nowhere else.
You use me to scratch out your thoughts.
You use me to draw these lines of conformity, to which I wish not to abide.
But I must - as you create these lines from myself.
Write on, you hold the power the same way you hold me,
With a firm, yet slightly loose grip.
You hold all control.
"I do not wish for this."
I was once full, respectable and of use, but you have worn me down.
I have been degraded, and as simple graphite I can not simply put myself together again.
You have diminished my encasing, sharpened away my boundary's.
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