Source of a Stream of Lines

I want a pencil.

It’s gotta be mechanical.

And it has to take .5-mm size lead.

I want to draw with it

And have my drawings be so good

That everyone will stare

And wish they could draw as well as me.

I want a pencil that looks really cool.

It’ll have an off-white grip

And it’ll be dark dark blue,

So much so that it’ll look black,

But in the light, it’ll sparkle with

The color of midnight skies.

I want it so much

That if I don’t get it, I’ll die.

And when I do get it,

I’ll draw so much that my hand’ll fall off.

The lines I’ll make with it

will be as dark or as light as I want

And if I choose to erase them,

They will disappear without a trace.

I’ll draw a person with it

On a silky sheet of pure white

And Her hair will be long and flowing,

And it’ll have the perfect amount of shine.

It’ll look like it’s actually moving.

That each and every silvery strand

Will be perfectly defined

Yet intertwined to make

A complex string of

Sharp lines and graceful curls.

She’ll be perfectly shaded in

And She won’t have color,

But that’ll be okay; She won’t need it

Because She’ll look so good

No one will notice.

She’ll look strong

And determined

Because that’s how I’ll draw Her

Her image will flow

From the top of my

Dark blue and silver bolt of lightning

And everyone

Will wish they had one.

Thanks for reading!

-Lefty