My Writing Stick

A writer's weapon,
Needs two partners to tell a story: A steady hand and a smooth paper,
To curve its lines and trace its letter,
Bringing back thoughts,
Of drawings and poems,
As its powers drift through your mind,
Leaving its traces on a page as white as
the gaps on a zebra’s skin,
With its gray top,
It tells you tales from long ago,
As your dad reads its words,
You fall asleep,
My blue school grey lead.