As he drew,
His pencil slipped,
Leaving an undesired mark upon his canvas.
Erasing leaves shadows,
And the mark he left was far too heavy.
He began to think to himself.
Something familiar was there,
Something he simply could not shake.
He had seen this before,
He had seen it and forgotten.
This particular memory was destined to be lost forever,
Forever lost in the depths of his mind.
He then started to think deeper.
How many "mistakes" were thrown away?
There was something quite incredible here,
And he was seconds from tossing it aside forever.
Fate had given him another chance
To reclaim this gem that had been tossed carelessly aside.
The more he thought,
The more he resented the idea of mistakes.
Are not mistakes just untapped potential?
If not all mistakes,
Are not some at the very least a learning experience?
Would an expecting mother deny her child simply because it was not planned?
Is that child simply an inconvenience without the potential to do amazing things?
This slip of the pencil he thought,
Did not create a mistake.
It started a masterpiece.