When I was a child, one day my dad came to me, <br />‘‘I've got something for you, my boy, '' He says, <br />‘‘you'll need them throughout your life.'' <br />Quite inquisitive, I looked at them— <br />A pencil, a sharpener and an eraser. <br />I got the ball rolling right away, drawing on the wall. <br />‘‘He'll be an artist, you see.'' Dad declares to mom. <br />Gradually, I began to understand the differences between leads. <br />I preferred 3B pencil. ‘‘Don't use it much; you'll make a mess, '' <br />He tells me, ‘‘You can use it when you are big.'' <br />Still I used that. And, struggled to erase my mistakes. <br />I tried harder, and, out of the blue, the page went torn. <br /> <br />I am a big boy now—a man. <br />I have written lots and lots of pages. <br />There are many words in the pages I left behind— <br />life, love, success, failure, food, break-up, boredom, death, sex, <br />marriage, divorce, deceit, day, night, internet, job, money, memory, <br />traffic, transport, frustration—hell of a lot, I'm sick and tired <br />of writing those again and again. <br />But I still write. Writing with a pencil with one hand and <br />holding the sharpener and eraser with the other. <br />‘‘For a good start you need to sharpen your pencil well <br />beforehand.'' Daddy used to say, I remember. <br />I do and I only use 3B for the final touch. I don't wanna make <br />a mess. Now I understand, eraser always can't erase everything, <br />Can it?<br /><br />Rahad Abir<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pencil-sharpener-eraser/
