Pencil
I lie on the table motionless waiting for him
My newly sharpened point glints in the sunlight
I am wooden and plain nothing too exciting about me
The giant walks toward me and picks me up
He puts my point on the paper and starts writing
At the start he grinds me across the page
After a minute his ideas start to come
Little does he know it is because of my brilliance
While he is reading I am used as a drumstick against the side of the table
Over the few months I have been alive I’ve been bitten and thrown
Whacked and lost for a while
It is so unfair, we are smarter and more valuable than these worthless humans
But they get all the credit for the writing and they get treated well
I guess it’s just the way it is
I can’t convince these humans what they’re doing is wrong
I don’t have a say in things
After he is finished he drops me on the table and runs away to play
And I am alone again
By: Luke Stein
Here is another Martian poem
An Ode to a Cottage Mouse
Why don’t they let us live in peace with them?
They set up devices that will snap our necks
The devices are made up of wood and iron
When they spot us they become angry and try to squish us
So we live in permanent hiding
Do they get pleasure out of killing?
If not, what purpose does it have?
We will just keep multiplying
We go in to a place with doors and floors of wood
It is where they keep their food
They have so much why don’t they share?
But some mice are safe
They live in cages
They are fed and rubbed
Held and loved
Why are we any different?
We do the same things as them
But they get special treatment
Is it because they are purchased in a store?
They can just put us in a cage and feed us and love us
They are very silly wasting their money
Are colony is dying and we need help
Maybe they will change and start helping not killing
Maybe just maybe we can live in peace
By: Luke Stein
Age:12
A Martian poem is a poem from someone or something else's perspective if you haven't already realized that from my poems. I chose a pencil because I saw it laying on the desk beside me and I wondered what it would be like to be a pencil.
For the mouse poem I wrote about it because I have a mouse infestation at my cottage and I also thought what it would be like to be a mouse in permanent hiding.
By: Luke
