Destroying what ever he touches
All things disappear
Deleting all the substance
Noone wants to hear
Widdling his life away
The pencil will employ
Noone reads what he has to say
He can only destroy
Joys he will never know
What he makes we will never see
Nothing he will ever show
What he wants will never be
Feeling like a waste of space
His size has been reduced
Never having a single taste
of anything that will be used
Only knowing what was
Only seeing what had been
Never knowing why, because
As he shrivels into tin

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