For once, I’ve been taken out

And opened on a desk –

I’m excited, this kind of attention

Is reserved for a test,

And suddenly it seems as if

I’m covered in writing,

The anxiety is evident –

The pen’s nib is biting;

These aren’t doodles either,

These are words that make sense,

Seems like Property Law is catching up

And making things tense,

But I don’t know what’s worse –

Gathering dust, or being worn,

I can’t find middle ground –

It’s my persistent mourn;

I suppose I should be grateful –

You’re putting me to use,

You’ve spent so much on me

Your wallet blew a fuse,

It told me so over dinner

About how it’s so used it’s frayed

And I remember thinking

If only I could be that away

But now I that it’s happening,

I’m not so sure –

I guess it’s true – be careful

What you wish for