18 January 2014


My pencil does not fit for duplication
It cannot lead itself to its destination
It cannot stand in neither curve paths nor straight paths
All day in my blank paper it will just sat
But, when I think of telling sweet memories
It will sharpen itself even to never meant stories
And when it feels that I am out of question
It will dance with the tune of inspiration

When it breaks, it can be at ease with strangers
Without a shame it will lead a sharpener
Unconsciously, it will get a pinch of lead
Which help me do the curves and straights of shades

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Maira Gall