Just A Pencil
A bunch of kids were leaving school on this cool, windy day. As they crossed the street one of them dropped a pencil.
"Hey, you dropped something," one of his friends said. The boy looked back to see a pencil rolling in the wind, away from him.
"It's just a pencil," the boy told his friend.
Just a pencil? He thought as he watched the children cross the street in front of him. The child acted as though a pencil was just a wooden stick that could make markings on paper and nothing more. This stick was only good for reports and homework and such.
In reality it was, but it was much more than that. It was also a tool of expression. Those markings could make words. The words woven together right, make beautiful poetry. The poetry stands alone, if it is good enough, but put to music it becomes a wonderful song. Pencil strokes, done right, can also create a beautiful picture, with the paper being the canvas. Whether poetry, song, or art, these can make someone laugh, cry, or inspire them. Being an artist he understands the value of this tool. He can't believe these children are so ignorant in that respect.
The child continued to walk away, and he couldn't stand it anymore. He transformed. The sound attracted the attention of the kids. "Look, it's an Autobot!" one of the kids said as he picked up the pencil. He then turned and handed the pencil back to the owner.
"Here, and remember, it's not just a pencil. It's a tool of expression. That item in your hand is able to put what's in your heart on paper so you can share it with the world. Remember that."
"Thank you," the kid said, staring at him awestruck. He transformed and they all left.
"Nice one, Sunstreaker," The red Lamborghini chided him as they drove off. "You probably scarred the kid for life."
Sunstreaker revved his engine in annoyance at his twin. "Sideswipe, some people just don't apprec—"
"Yeah, yeah, save it for someone who cares." Sideswipe interrupted. He really didn't want to hear his brother drone on today. The wind was making it hard to drive, and his whining would only make it worse.
Sunstreaker sighed. There was only one thing right now that could get his mind off this. "Race you back to the Ark?"
If he were in his mech mode, Sideswipe would be smiling now. "A cube of my high-grade against a bottle of your wax?"
"You're on!"
Two Lamborghinis, one red and one yellow sped off into the desert. Sunstreaker's thoughts turned back to the kid. Maybe that kid would go back to his original views. But maybe, just maybe, he would take Sunstreaker's words to heart and remember that it's not just a pencil.