Remember you allowed littering the pencil scrapes on the floor?
Sometimes you said, those would be picked in the morning,
sometimes you said, it's late, just keep studying.
Yet, sometimes, as a matter of fact, you smacked my head,
or, your eyes would penetrate my soul for the same act,
Where are your manners, you would ask?
And, I could never understand the task:
Should I pick or should I leave?
Should I study or should I clean?
You were strict, yet lenient;
your mere presence made life convenient.
It got confusing when you left, it still confuses me a lot.
Every time I sharpen a pencil, I deeply remember how...
How could you be so unreal when you were real?
And how are you so real, when you are not here?
<3 <3
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