autobiography of an eraser
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Have you ever wondered?
What it feels like to be an eraser?
I have to sacrifice myself
Eradicating others mistakes,
Never mind-- intentional or unintentional.
The more the mistakes,
The more I’m required
To lose my tender self—
Willingly or unwillingly,
It doesn’t matter
For the love of you, my dear pencil!
However, When I feel
I’m being taken for granted
I think of the times I have had
With pens that err--
When I get human spit on me
To clean your mighty mess,
Makes me realize
I’m your best secret keeper
And, the most modest martyr
You have ever had.
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