The Pencil!

I’ve little of Life lived. I am still young.  
It’s the 21st century the age of the electric buzz.
I’ve grown up around all the tech. It’s no headache to turn my hair grey. Except math, of course, that’s all Greek to me.

I’m comfortable typing at whiplash speeds.
It’s just that all I’ve come to love is in lead.
You see there’s just something simple about this here pencil.
All it needs is sharpening. I can sit hunched over desk pencil in hand and onto paper breath.

Some may say lead to paper is such a hassle. It’s true that my hand writing I can barely read. Typing is much faster, the data travels so easily. To edit and re-write is a breeze. No eraser junk or lines to scratch out. All I need is a tap of a key and it’s done. The sounds of my typing though are just so annoying. I far prefer the scratch of my pencil to my keyboard’s chattering. I first met the pencil when I was as high as your knees. It was a friend back then. Over the years my friend it’s remained.

To me a pencil is like the most comfortable pair of worn in shoes. They’ve seen you through thick and thin and form to your foot as no other can. I’d never give a pair of those up. As with any good relationship; I’m willing to work a little to enjoy the rewards.  

 

Author's Note

constructive criticism?