If you’re only here for me to
solve your problems
Then we aren’t friends
You are not poor sally in math
who doesn’t have enough apples
Yes I understand shapes and sizes
That not everyone is the same,
and in order to be complete the numbers must add up to 360
But please I’m still in school
You are not an elective math
course
I am not you’re happy student
Who trips through puzzles even
occasionally copying the occasional answers from friends
To you I’m not even a person
I’m a pencil
And I only wanting to fit into
the pencil box will do anything I can to get back in
Whether it be shaving off my
dignity
Erasing my mistakes
Sharpening my attitude
Rewriting a your grades
At the end I still will fit in
but not belong
For there’s too many in your box
I’m only a tool to write down
your answers
You discretions
Your problems
For it all equals up
That no one can solve them except
you
No matter how much I want to be a
part of you
Hopefully I’ll be drawn to a
place where I can feel free
A pastel that wisps away with
every stroke,
Vibrant, individual, lasting on
your fingertips, the very colors you wish to see
Not lead by your pencil box
Because I got individuality
