Graphite in Wood

I turn to a new crisp sheet in my scrapbook. There is a newly sharpened pencil in my hand, ready to create, reading to draw. Once I lay the tip of my pencil on the new sheet I hear faint scrap against paper. There is now a thin line on the paper. The pencil in my hand starts to move, its creating curves, lines, dots, and shadings. I take my finger and I start to rub against the graphite on the paper to create shadow. There is now a black grayish stain on my index finger. Once again my pencil starts to frantically move against the page, eventually creating a tear looking drop. Unconsciously my hand and my pencil start to make two half moon shapes together. It looks like the beginning of an eye shape. The pencil is being pushed against the paper harder now creating a darker circle with lines in the middle with another small round circle. Soon there is a rectangle shape connected by a small triangular shape.

There is now an eye on the page. Eyes that looked pained. Eyes that have been through unspeakable things. There are tears on the page and lashes drowning in the salty water dripping from her sad eyes. And a pencil diagonally placed across these sad eyes. A pencil who had just created something so haunting, sad, and deep. When someone looks at a pencil, what do they think? All it is to them is something to write down. This simple has accomplished many great things. It has created many constitutional things within history. And we take advantage of it. We over look at this frail piece of wood. It's graphite allows someone to create, someone to express, someone to write, someone draw. It give motivation and it gives freedom to express. And yet we sit here taking advantage, never giving credit to something so small ,physically, but powerful in theory.