The Pencil pgs 19-20

The Pencil

The Employees

Still ignored

What they heard and saw.

Blinded by the fervor,

They unwittingly

Became puppets

Controlled by

The Twist.

It was he who was leading

The crowd.

With a sweaty, meaty fist

He punched

A large red button

On the wall.

The great machine

Roared to life!

The presses began to roll.

Giant cylinders spun.

Arms and pins began to function;

They were ready to print

A story.

But it was about to put

The entire story

To death.

They hung

The Plain Man

In their grasping hands

Between

Heaven and Earth.

His head was

Just inches from

The waiting machine’s

Spinning presses.

In his fervor

With a glassy, glaring gaze

The Twist

Almost hypnotically

Convinced the crowd

To drop

The Plain Man

“He is worthy of death!

He is worthy of death!”

Began the chant.

Their voices raised

To an unbearable pitch.

As if time itself

Crept along in

S l o w- m o t i o n

In that second of time,

The Plain Man

He fell into the machine.

His final words

Were strange.

They seemed to hang

In the air

Long after

The machine

Crushed his body.

They were:

“It has begun

Again!”

Had anyone

In all the excitement,

Noticed

The Pencil

In

The Plain Man’s

Hand?

Anyone other than

The Twist?

He realized it all

Too late, in horror.

The Plain Man’s

Blood

Stained

Every inch of that

Press.

Both he

And

The Pencil

Were completely crushed.

No life

Could survive that.

Now…

Hope for the future

Was not far behind,

They would meet

The same fate.

All too late

The Twist

Realized what he had lost.

In reality he had

No clue what was just

Set into motion,

No one did.

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About gpavants

I am a writer and a teacher. I feel my platform is to encourage people to live a life of faith.
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