Circle of Mind

Paper, clean white and unlined

a pencil I choose to find

it's between my fingers

and I close my mind

it's easier to erase 
 

ten fingers nimble, painted green

it doesn't sink in and cracks

upon the skin, the

unlined paper clean again when

erased 
 

one crease down the side

it won't go away for me

no color and yet

like black I see

not green like a tree

it stays there

heavy 
 

I can clear and erase

what I drew, it was my

choice and I knew

I said goodbye 
 

I could make it go

away then, but the crease it

stays, cannot  make even

again, the shadows when who knew then

that you lied