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Pencil Shavings
Mama when I’m gone
there won’t be anymore pencil shavings
staining my fingers black.
There won’t be anymore glass shards
on the marble floor or scratch marks on my hand.
Mama when I’m gone there won’t be
anyone to scold
or hug when the night gets cold.
There won’t be anymore days
of tired voices or tear stained faces.
There won’t be pencil shavings on the floor
when I’m gone, mama
where will you be?
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