— Humble pencil write to me a story,
For in you breathes the greatest glory,
Tell me the line that’s on your mind,
The dream your heart searches to find...


— People just use me when they write,
They play with me, they love, they fight,
In all my life I dreamed their dreams,
I have no dream of mine it seems.

Yet if I had to write a story,
It wouldn’t be a tale of glory,
For glory and all its shine is fake,
And all it brings, the time will take.



— Humble pencil write to me a story,
For no sceptre had a greater glory.
Is there a poem, a verse, a rime,
that can reverse the hands of time?


— People just use me when they write,
In my black heart they search their light,
Yet all their life echoes the same;
greed, ego, wars for reign and fame.

So if I had to write a story,
It wouldn’t be a tale of glory.
Instead I’d put a small full stop,
To all the writing, and on top
of that, turn backwards and delete,
The words man struggled to complete,
Up to the place, the time, the day,
He took the wrong turn on his way.

— voices —
Is there a poem, a verse, a rime,
that can reverse the hands of time?


...

I put myself back in your hand
Hoping this time you’ll understand,
Though poorly you had chosen once,
You will not waste this second chance.

Though poorly you had chosen once,
Please do not waste this second chance.