An Eraser

As God took away the eraser from me

and took away the pencil with which I wrote.

I became scared of making mistakes.

So, I read others', copied them, and quoted 'em as my own.


And as God took away the eraser from me

and gave me this pen, which I accepted with glee.

I became aware of enmity

and how harsh the feeling of guilt can be...


And as I wrote songs and

a journal-worth of memories.

I became aware that

change is such a terrorist.


And as God gave me a new pen

to write more about the days I lived...

I bought many shades of ink to write.

Joy, anxiety, and some decisions for which I grieved


The happy songs I wrote with the old pencil

Its graphite has loosened up, so has the bravado

I forgot the illegible things I wrote with the pen,

The stain of the Inkpen never faded though...

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