pencils (a poem)

pencils.

you need pressure on them for them to work.

too much pressure, and they break.

if you put the correct amount, over time, they shorten and become dull.

if they break or become too short, you sharpen them.

cutting away at the pencil, making it usable again.

but each time you sharpen, the pencil becomes shorter.

once it’s too short to hold, you throw it out and get a new one.

the cycle repeats.

but let me tell you something. this isnt about pencils.

AN: this was a trend so i made a poem!! hope u like it :3

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if its about people then you are right people use you and and if you arent helpfull they trow you away

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yup. sadly, it’s how humans work. so do other animals.

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