The Pencil
Why don't you just let me sleep?,
said the pencil to the hand.
Why do I have to run for you?
Whenever I think I am done,
you rip out the page
and make me start over.
You wake me up in the middle of the night.
You don’t let me rest.
You keep breaking my heart over and over
each time you leave a story unfinished,
a project abandoned,
and a character poorly written.
I’ve been doing this job for ever.
This job I never signed up for.
I don't remember how I got here
or why I have been sentenced to this work.
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