Reborn

A slate births,

It coos and cries.

Warms in mother's arms, 

Age two the slate is marked.

Is it green or black,

What does it do? use a Chalk ? 

Oh Poor boy! What about a marker pen ?

A type coming from wealth!

The slate writes, 

As it experiences both within 

And without, it rolls it's own film.

A main character is scribbled!

Age 25, says it's intermission

Will the slate keep writing?

Wil it change it's style?

The slate knows not! 

A sudden spill on the board,

Slash! It goes. 

It releases all that was dross,

The slate wipes, and rewrites!

'Never again' it says,

Yet it wipes again and again! 

From dots to ones, it formats

Being reborn to Inteligence.