I couldn’t see
Nor did I want to believe
Is this really the same man that I once knew?
Every moment of my life
I never did once cry
And it made me realize
That one day I too will die.
A striking fear
One that made me cry
I can’t believe that I never said goodbye
I always saw the man as I left
And yet it seemed that I couldn’t care less
Yet here I am, with tears streaming down my face
I was wrong,
The family in grief
Hugging with permanent red faces
Like a disease it too spread to me
How blind could I be?
As I cried
To die is to live
To live is to die
Though I regret never saying that final goodbye
I can’t stay sad forever
And so I turned my depression
Into a drawing of succession.
Hand twisting in several directions
The paper once clean is riddled with marks,
The pencil smoothly glides above the paper
And lines replace it soon after,
Looking at old childish drawings,
Mimicking its style, but making it better
The pencil stabs through the heart,
Stopping at a specific feeling.
It has a mind of its own,
Following its own realistic style
Drawing fast with no hesitation
Everything coming together.
Like pieces of a puzzle
And as the lines slowly connect,
As the sun slowly sets
The light that I use fades,
Like a flash of light
The drawing is complete.
Looking upon the drawing
I know that even if I die
I can live on
Not with fame
Or with money
But sticking to what I do best
Creating my own world
Through the graphite of a pencil.