A Pencil

I am just A little pencil Made from Wood and lead My head is Long and pointed My body Smooth and red I write happily Only when I’m led I was once Tall and handsome But now The days I dread! You see My little master He treats me Very badly And often Shaves my head And when He is thinking He puts my tail end In his mouth Chewing till he thinks Things through Now I am But half myself An old stump, discarded Bald and chewed! Why the other day He picked me up Happy was I To move ahead But as he neither could Shave or chew He just threw me down Thinking I was dead!