I take my eraser with me wherever I go,
erasing the mistakes so they no longer show.

I try to pretend that my life is alright,
I try to pretend I'm not different or uptight.

I carry my eraser with me every single place,
Getting rid of errors without a trace.

I try to pretend that my life is flawless,
It isn't, but that's something I will not confess.

I grasp the small item, ready to use,
It's worn out from the memories I wanted to lose.

I look back at my life, I see all the smudges,
Where words used to be, before I let go of the grudges.

I realize my life is not perfect, and it never will be,
If I just quit erasing I might even be happy.

So I throw the eraser out, and start all over again.
This time I think I'll write my life in pen.