The Pencil

He takes the pencil in his hand
And scrawls across the page
Too many things to understand
They'll come to us with age

There is a reason for the way
He writes the letter S
It's nothing we'll find out today
So we can only guess

He writes the story of your youth
About your teddy bear
And how it hurt to pull your tooth
And when you cut your hair

He moves on to your teenage years
And writes about your friends
And all about your joys and fears
Even the silly trends

You cared too much what people thought
You wanted to impress
He writes about the shirt you bought
And all about your stress

He's careful as he strives to write
And finish his essay
He won't erase mistakes so slight
So they'll all have to stay

He guides the pencil 'cross the page
With movement so precise
He hopes you find out as you age
Everything has a price