Post Script to an accident

A narrow pencil
On your colorful walls
Sketching lines
Not so correct, direct or sharp

You lived and
Died 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
Corrected many restraints
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