Wednesday, April 10, 2013

The un love poem

Sorry for slacking these last few days but here you go

There's something about eraser shavings
 that just crawls under my skin
We just brush the off so casually 
and they disappears 
only to reapers in sweaters and socks
 but what happens to those shaving, 
do the disintegrate to dust? 
Do they serve as a fuel source to other countries? 
Or do they simply fly off to their own colony
somewhere far away and procreate 
sending their children to hatch 
in clingy sweaters and ratty socks 

You and me, we'll were like and artist and her eraser shavings. 
Your useless and irritating 
whereas I am the embodiment
 of aesthetic perfection. 
But I guess if you disappeare ,
 I might spend a bit too much time fretting
 over something's insignificant
 as the mystery of eraser shaving. 

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