A Pencil vs. Pen by Nguyen H.

A Pencil vs. Pen by Nguyen H

A pen is designed to write smoothly on paper, With ink filled in its cartridge, Leaving a permanent trace wherever it trails, A pen’s mark can’t be undone, Its stains can not be erased, A pen is made for perfection, Its bearer must make no mistake.

In contrast to a pen, A pencil has a built in eraser, Its traces can be erased, A pencil prepares for blunders, Its bearer can review their faults, Ameliorate them.

pen is designed to write smoothly on paper, With ink filled in its cartridge, Leaving a permanent trace wherever it trails, pen’s mark can’t be undone, stains can not be erased, pen is made for perfection, bearer must make no mistake. contrast to a pen, pencil has a built in eraser, traces can be erased, pencil prepares for blunders, bearer can review their faults, Ameliorate them.

When offered a pen or pencil, I choose the pen, I’ve left myself, Without room for error, No, I am not cocky, I’m a perfectionist, Just like a pen, My cartridge is filled with ink, So when I don’t fit in the standards created for me, Just like a pen, My ink bleeds, Leaving an indelible mark that ruins my pristine sheet, To be Asian,

Even if I wanted to fix them, I couldn’t, Scratching those errors would just emphasize them, They’d remain here, Sabotaging my paper for eternity, Soon, my paper is filled with scribbles, As I desperately try to fix my drawing, My brain aches, Wondering why the lines don’t look right, I’m revolted by the image created, I stare at my creation blankly, Continuously loathing it more and more, I realize, I’m no match for perfection, I can’t afford to bleed ink,

I am expected to excel in my academics, The percentage on the top corner of my test, Dictates my self worth, I am defined by my intelligence, To fit the Asian beauty standards, I am expected to be thin and pale, They are what my pen must follow, But of course,

There is bound to be flaws, My pen is forced to wield in such unfamiliar strokes, When I receive a lower score on a test, My pen slips, When I gain another inch of fat, Another mark skids across the sheet, They make up the impurities on my paper, They distract the viewer from the whole picture,

I watch those around me, Wield a pencil, Unlike me, They don’t dwell over a mere mark, They erase it, If their hand slips, They redo that stroke, I notice, They slip about the same times as I do, But all their imperfections are erased, Leaving just a beautiful image behind, Their erasers enabled them to advance, Learn from their mistakes, And so I realize, I don’t have to be bound by my errors, I am not defined by a grade, There’s more to being Asian than just intelligence, I don’t have to set myself into a permanent mold, As I stride along those thoughts, My brain relaxes, I finally accept myself, With every flaw, Instead of letting them dictate my self worth, I understand that I can improve, Erase them on my final paper, So when I’m offered the choice between a pen or a pencil again, This time, I gladly reach for the pencil.

When offered a pen or pencil, choose the pen, I’ve left myself, Without room for error, No, I am not cocky, a perfectionist, Just like a pen, cartridge is filled with ink, when I don’t fit in the standards created for me, Just like a pen, ink bleeds, Leaving an indelible mark that ruins my pristine sheet, be Asian, am expected to excel in my academics, The percentage on the top corner of my test, Dictates my self worth, am defined by my intelligence, fit the Asian beauty standards, am expected to be thin and pale,