Pencil Marks in the Sand

Water surrounds the only place you can call home

Counting the weeks

Each tally mark reading

1, 2, 3

You remember the first day you woke up

The first time animal became part of your name

The last time society said hello

The first time you said goodbye

4, 5, 6

The first time frogs tasted good raw

The start of society's silence

Your body changes to the animal you are

7, 8, 9, 10

Life was complex

Getting used to it was the sadness that filled your eyes 

The pencil now red with the blood of nature


The pencil reaches towards you

It has its own soul

It has its own life 

As you try to take yours

12, 13, 14, 15

Pain becomes your life

Passion is the past

And tears are the present


Something washes up

Your senses have made you sharp

The light pulls you out of the darkness

The fight pushes outside

Every sense tells you to push away

But your body is pulling you forward

You stop in front of the piece of paper as it floats onto shore

Every moment of these weeks

Make tears fuel the fire

And pain uses everything else

As you remember the details of the crash

All of the death and the misery

The darkness that surrounded you

The people that lost their lives

The lives you stole the only thngs pushing for your safety

17, 18, 19 20

The sunlight beckons you

But the shadows are your place to stay

The paper dries quickly 

And the little bit of writing keeps you warm


The roars of the ocean

Scare you away

And the pain of every week 

Gets rolled up and shoved into the piece of plastic you always kept

The ocean becomes wider as the plastic rolls on


Everyone rolls into your mind for the final act 

As more roaring fills your mind

Your ears fill with ecstacy and fright

As you realize the roar isn't from your mind

Civilization flows back into your mind

And the jungle can't help to fight back

Helicopter blades fill your view 

And the world that you know of 

Hovers away and the real world comes back

Your plane that took 22

Is nothing but forgotten after week 22

And society welcomes you back at week 402


Dots fill your eyes

And lines dot your sky 

As everything rolls back into place

Your pencil is the only thing that you had 

Since your small accident

But you realize you are always on an island

And the only tool you need is 

A Pencil

This poem is about: 
Our world


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