A piece of paper in my table
With pencil on its side
Along with the eraser and the sharpener.
I took a glance on the paper
Thinking what to write
But then my emotions succumb me
I took the pencil and sharpen it.
I hold it tightly and sliced, pierced
And cut my wrist. Bloods dripping out of it.
My eraser can't erase what my pencil did.
Erasers has limitation.
Now, I leave with a blank page.
©ms.joker
M