I am a pencil,
I'm yellow and red,
I have a co-worker
Who's name is Fred.
He is a sharpener,
he sharpens my head,
and to the rubbish bin
The shavings are fed.
I am used to write,
I write all day,
And in a student's desk
I lay.
I am a Hb,
I wrote this poem today,
I write stories and draw pictures,
'Till I get thrown away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem