Number 2 Pencil:

I'm still the winner
Even though I'm # 2
Cause I am the type
That all schools choose.

I am tall and thin
And I'm usually yellow,
A devoted little guy
That's always mellow.

There's no chill bumps
Running down my spine,
It's more like graphite
Running down mine.

I'm blind as a bat
There's nothing I see,
So if you mess up
There's an eraser on me.

From head to toe
I come to a point,
If you have my back
I will never disappoint.

I write for a living
So it is what I do,
But I couldn't do it
If it wasn't for you.

I'm known to get dull
Or I might even break,
From all that pressure
That I barely can take.

The harder you push
The more I sink in,
And my graphite tip
Comes to an end.

I now need a trimming
That I do always hate,
Cause I only get smaller,
From all those mistakes.

So I may go capoot
Every now and then,
If that should happen
Use a ball point pen.