By the powers bestowed upon me by LAUSD, I declare September to be NATIONAL PENCIL MONTH. The scratch of a #2 on a blank white sheet of paper is magical and apparently, I'm not the only one who thinks so. This is a poem by Violeta, a good friend of mine who used her muse, a pencil, to illustrate the use of metaphors to students. Thanks Vi!
I am a pencil
Slender yet shrinking.
I hide myself in the morning.
I am used everyday, sometimes abused
and occasionally I break...
maybe even snap.
All day long I write,
I record.
By the middle of the day
I'm used, worn down.
Slowly I disappear.
All day long,
Right side up, upside down
I have no control.
I learn from my mistakes,
I am valued because I can make mistakes.
Unlike my cousin the pen,
who is bold...exact, permanent.
Some prefer me better.
On days when I'm not at my sharpest
I'm completely ignored.
All in all,
I feel helpful.
And in the end
When I'm down to a bit,
I'll know I spent my life
helping others figure it all out.
I'll know I made a difference.
i'm a pencil!
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