13 June 2010

● pencil and eraser ●

Pencil: You know, I'm really sorry.

Eraser: For what? You didn't do anything wrong.

Pencil: I'm sorry, 'cause you get hurt because of me. Whenever I make a mistake, you're always there to erase it. But as long as you make my mistakes vanish, you lose a part of yourself. You get smaller and smaller each time.

Eraser: That's true. But I don't really mind. You see, I was made to do this. I was made to help you whenever you do something wrong. Even though, one of these days, I know I'll be gone and you have to replace me with a new one. I'm actually happy with my job. So please, stop worrying. I hate seeing you sad :)


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