If I was a pencil, I would draw with my feet and
If I made a mistake, I would ask my friend, the eraser,
to erase my footprints.
If I was a pencil, I would guard the baskets with my sharp feet,
and if it ever got dull, my orthopedist, the pencil sharpener,
would fix my feet.
I would work inside a person’s hand. That’s my life.