A narrow pencil
On your colourful walls
Sketching lines
Not so correct, direct or sharp
You lay here like a butterfly
Pinned to a white board
My eyes burned
Seeing your daughter
Drawing on the wall
You must have restricted
A pencil intruding your
Perimeters
Even before you are some
Smoke or ash
Last midnight
A hump on the road
Wiped out many restraints
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