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Thursday, September 4, 2008

Maped Eraser


Some lines scribbled;
On the not so white
Paper…

In graphite, molded within
A hollow cast of red and black
Pencil…

Dissatisfaction creeps;
The words don’t mean
Much…

A bright “maped” eraser;
Kept beside the paper
Erases…

All vacuous words;
Not meant to be
Written…

From now on;
I will write my life with
Graphite…

And will also keep;
An eraser
Beside…
To efface those names;
Not meant to be
There…

How can I?
Life leaves deeper wounds than
Graphite…

And the marks can’t be wiped;
Even with the eraser of
Tears…

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