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No. 2
My thoughts are a yellow Ticonderoga pencil I lift up my pencil And I put it in my hand Words start to appear on my paper But I don't know what they mean I flip my pencil to see the eraser untouched But it won't be anymore It clears the words that the pencil has made But it leaves a mess I sharpen my pencil I try again The pencil starts to make out more words But this time, I can understand them
My thoughts are a yellow Ticonderoga pencil I lift up my pencil And I put it in my hand Words start to appear on my paper But I don't...
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