The Pencil
Waiting to break free
Waiting in a silence that is screaming
Explanation and understanding caged within lead.
A peaceful sword awaiting a knight
To slay the beast that looms.
Thoughts leak as they would from
A broken faucet.
Emotion expressed and explained
Through a pencil
A flare,
Like a projector in a theater
A golden tool of communication.
My hands dance across the paper with the pencil
Leaving a trail of art.
The pencil sings many tales
But few listen to its angelic voice.
Like a door to another world
The pencil keeps me sane
Words unspoken finally displayed.
The pencil, an escape.
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