Accordions?
Pens fight with pencils
One allows mistakes,
the other demands perfection.
At the mercy of the hand
manipulating it.
Frustrated by scribbled out mistakes.
Chewed, turned, cracked, lost, and forgotten.
A flying acrobat in fidgety hands.
The silent listener of our inner thoughts.
Hand held distractions one click, twist,
and flick at a time.
Running out of ink just in the
Pens are like accordions…well, not really.
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