Take my pencil, but not away from
the sheath of my hand.
Instead summon
its attention and guide both with your
hand toward the correct path.
It is bleeding black and running franticly
across the page wondering where pretty
pen went. Because his
life simply can’t go
on without his love.
You are my pencil because you always
seem to be able to erase my mistakes of the days.
However, I leak ink at night due to my
replacement by another.
Be my artist, take my hand in doing so.
I feel that when I am around you I can let my ink flow,
together, we can complete whatever task that we
set out to do. And
make a Masterpiece out of life.
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