A budding writer's collection

A Canvas of Mistakes

Little kids scribble in their notebooks,

The pencil comes with an eraser on its tail end

Mistakes are meant to be forgotten,

What matters is that they learn from it

They're teensy little adolescents now,

The growth spurt lurking right around the corner

From this year, pencils are no more

Because a pen is mightier than sword.

A tiny kid seated on her high-placed bench wonders,

"Does it mean my mistakes are recorded?"

"Do my mistakes define my writing?"

"Will my grades be reduced if I scratch more than twice?"

She goes to the shop across the street,

She looks at an ink eraser

Happy to have found a solution,

The little kid prances back home

The next day, she discovers the eraser damages the paper,

The paper gets translucent with every swipe

She can't help the tears rolling down her cheek,

There is no way to hide that mistake, none at all.

The excitement of using a pen vanishes as soon as it arrived,

Now, the pencil is all she finds herself dreaming about.