All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
Stolen Eraser
They took away my eraser.
All of them.
Mommy, when I was 4.
Oblivious, not knowing death and it’s strength.
Daddy, when I was 8.
Barely knowing the possibility of loss.
Alex, when I was 12.
Newly exposed to the evils of the world.
Amanda, when I was 15.
Alone and scared without ignorance and youth.
Handed to loss at only 4 years old,
Scared of death at 8.
Stolen from innocence at only 12 years old,
and forced to grow up early at 15.
They took away my eraser.
All of them.
I could not erase my mistakes,
so I would not make them.
I could not erase my tears,
so I would not shed them.
I could not erase my past,
so I would not think it.
But whenever I ask, do I want an eraser?
The answer is always, I don’t need it.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.