Blow me.

Breathe me in.

I am you.

You made me.

Blow me.

I am the air.

You drive.

I dive.

Into your lungs.

Blow me.

Your parents drive a car.

To go far and far.

Yet I am still here.

I will not disappear.

Blow me.

Breathe me in.

Blow me out.

I am still here.

No doubt.

Blow me.

I am here.

As time goes on.

For I get worse after long.

For in a while when you have child.

His first breathe will be me.

Blow me.

I am a pencil.

Tiny yet mighty.

I will break under your pressure.

But sharpen me and I will be even fresher.

I can come in many colors.

Radiant like a rainbow.

Or quiet like a black and white movie.

I am a pencil.

Now sharp as ever.

Use me to draw create your wildest dream.

Yet I have none of my own.

You use me if I were a drone.

I am a pencil.

Now I have grown.