Life Of A Pencil ✏️
I was a free little thing
Until the monster got a hold of me
Who grabbed me, and shoved my pretty face, inside a dark cave.
Who held my body and rotated it twice,
With all its might.
Did I mention?
There was some Steel on the wall and
With every little twist and turn,
A bit of my skin came off.
My nose, which untill then, was pressed flat, grew to a sharp point. And then,
For some reason I couldn't understand
The monster without mercy, started,
Scrubbing my nose on a paper.
He rubbed and rubbed and rubbed
Untill it was blunt like before.
Not enough satisfied,
The monster again put me in the cave of torture.
Where the wood of my face, clashed with the steel and the steel seem to win again.
Hmm. Curious. The monster seemed to enjoy scrubbing my pretty nose on a paper.
It was like a game to him.
Agonising me was his hobby, and it went on and on and on,
Untill my size was mere a few centimetres.
Then one day, he brought someone else,
Someone who looked just like I had.
The new comer was slender and beautiful but more like somewhat proud.
He smiled his proud smile and looked at my form with disgust.
I smiled back knowingly and told him smugly
"Smile all you want now, mate,
you are unaware of your fate.
You don't know, for you,
what tortures of hell awaits!"