"Object Pov."

I come in bunches

Box chalk full

We all clamor and cling

Yet you still pull

I look like my sisters

Like my cousins too

Until you pull me straight

What use am I to you

We live in the office

Sometimes in drawers

We come from England

But are sold in stores

You throw me away

Now bent and broke

Because the paper wont stay

And a kid might choke

End.