To you I'm just a
pencil.
I had a nice fine point
until you broke me.Then you sharpened
me back up again.
You kept sharpening me
until I was a mere nub.You kept me along for
as long as I worked for
you. Then when I broke that
last time, you threw me away.Then you replaced me.
But what happens when
that pencil no longer suits
your needs? Will you do to
it like you did to me?-Molly
YOU ARE READING
Shades of Blue [Poetry]
PoetryI've recently been working on my Shades of Blue poetry book and I'm going to make it a series. I'm going to call it Shades of Life and I hope to do many different books. These are my blue poems if you couldn't tell. I very much hope you enjoy them a...