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O eraser! O eraser!
You were supposed to make it white
Instead you made it gray
O eraser! O eraser!
You smudge my work all day
O eraser! O eraser!
I'm throwing you away
O eraser! O eraser!
You're hard and black from pencil dust
You're sticky gray from acrylic crust
O eraser! O eraser!
It's like the opposite of an ode.
Anne J Nov 2018
handles of time click
permanently forward without an
eraser or a reverse
Lately, I've been thinking about the embarrassing, pathetic things I did when I was younger. The saddest thing about the difference between the past, present,and future is that there is one that you cannot change the events. We all know which one I'm talking about, unfortunately. :(
E B K Jul 2018
Look at me
you've seen my face
hundreds of times

Look at me
without your dead eyes
as if my body was
filled with empty space

Look at me
we are not strangers
I know your dog's name

Look at me
without talking to your friends
laughing the laughs we used to share

nothing is the same

Look at me
I know those laughs have ended
those memories more filled with grey

But stop being the eraser
that wipes me all away
This is about a friend who "broke up" with me.
jul Jun 2018
i continue writing your scripture along my fragile skin hoping that you’ll understand the words that I devote to you.
in the hopes of forgetting you, i’ve desperately tried to erase the idioms that i’ve created with the images and ideas that are engraved into my mind,
but i’m stuck staring at the shavings that you’ve left behind.
my hands tire from the constant motion of trying to erase even the smallest mark left on the stained paper.
its stained with memories of you.
of us.
my fingers tremble and lead drips down my face onto the castles i've made out of paragraphs.
my breath rushes from the bottom of my lungs and overflows the tiny broken down, brick walls.
i've built thrones which sit unused.

i know that you look upon me with disgust while my hands are covered in dust and graphite but i cannot help write poems about us.
i've used this pencil down to the very tip foolishly believing that my words affect you.
i know that this poem is a mess but it is what i became.
because of you.

because while you obliviously sit
i knowingly, absurdly, continue writing with a pencil in my hand and shavings dispersed across my lap,
creating fantasies.
Diána Bósa Jun 2018
Once I was a preserver
a wayfarer
a maker
but later
you turned me into a useless stargazer
by losing the will of being your tracer
I ceded my kismet on becoming an engraver

I grew to be nothing but a moveless eraser
Jolan Lade Apr 2018
It is the pen and the paper, backspace and eraser, that makes this place better.
Rebel Heart Mar 2018
I rewrite myself often
Never satisfied
With the person I've drawn out
I say this only once
And I say it as a warning...
Don't write yourself in me
Or parts of you will get lost too
(Part of one of the longer lyric wall quotes I think I finally understand ~BM)

(Front Page 3/5/2018)
Bailey Roland Nov 2017
the past is an old
in which i find
myself pondering
if i could erase the pain,
i would with
no regrets
because you took
my once
heart and
destroyed what i once was.
locked doors may keep
others out but
it doesn’t keep me from
the nightmares of
your touch.
there’s a ghost
in that room,
and in my head
that’s full of the
eraser shavings i’ve
created by trying to
forget but the more i
the harder it comes
by: bailey roland
Aiden Oct 2017
An eraser
goes through its life
caring about all the tiny details
but not about itself.
it degrades itself trying
to fix others mistakes
until suddenly
it’s gone.

it knows it’s dying,
it know it,
and it doesn’t care.
it cares too much about other people
to care about itself.

Some people say an eraser
would be a model human.
i don’t.

If everyone was like an eraser,
if everyone cared about others
just a little too much,
how would life work?

People would degrade
just like the eraser,
not caring
about themselves.

an eraser plays an important role in art.
so it does.
you can care about other people,
but don't
not care about yourself.
do not be an eraser,
you need loved too.
Desolation Jun 2017
Blood drips down the blade.
Time flies by; memories fade.
Pain has been erased.
Time can heal almost all wounds.
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