Young Writers Society

I love this poem. It is simple and perfectly expresses what an eraser does. It's a little hyperbolic, but that only adds to the poetry. It doesn't stand out, which is what caught me. I especially like the part where you express that the eraser knows all the mistakes we make, yet keeps it a secret.

I just have one suggestion, and it's just that, a suggestion so you don't have to take it very seriously.

In the entire poem, you express humans as the third person, if I am not wrong.
But only in the last stanza, you say 'until all traces of OUR idiocy', in the first person. You might consider changing that.

Other than that, your poem is great! Keep Writing!

"Dumb block
to men, you are called
"Illiterate" "
This was a great way to show what being an eraser truly is. It seems like they are worthless to many because they can't do what other tools do.

"But
to artists
you are a redeemer
a forgiver of dirt"

I am an artist myself and I love this line. It shows our appreciation for the forgiveness of a bad line stroke or a smudge. It gives us a way to try again and do better.

"Humble block
you have beheld the peaks
of human stupidity"

It sounds like a way of saying, "We make mistakes and you fix them, yet you take no credit only the suffering of being an eraser."

You did an amazing job. You took something that sounds silly and made it great! Fantastic Job! Bravo! :]

This is quite a comedic poem and I had a good laugh reading it. I like the metaphors and similes used throughout your piece. It really adds to it thinking of an eraser as stupid or perhaps as an incredibly creative yet silent object. Perhaps that is a metaphor for some people, perhaps not. I have no criticism for your piece, as I enjoyed it too much! Excellent work! Hope to see more from you!

Hey Haraya!

You've done it again! You've written a beautiful masterpiece out of a topic that nobody would even consider. And, you've done an awesome job! Way to go!

You've spun an intricate poem, that pays tribute to the savior of countless messed up graphs, and diagrams, that immortal being that rescues us from failure, and gives us a second chance. An eraser.

The whole poem has a whimsical, and light-hearted tone, but it still pays tribute to something that is a very very important part of our lives and our stationary pouches.

I like the different ways in which you address the eraser, and how you call it a "forgiver of dirt", "redeemer", and "humble block."

I especially enjoyed this paragraph:

Humble block
your eyes have beheld the peaks
of human stupidity
yet you remain silent
keeping them hidden
from the eyes of the world—

toiling your tender body
until all traces of idiocy
have been reduced
to Nothing.