I Used To Be Better Than Sliced Bread

I had a dream I was a fax machine
That the world had passed me by
But some people still kept me around
Till even I began to ask them why

With a cloth electrical cord
And a dusty mechanical action
Raised art deco lettering
Tumblers for addition and subtraction

Every day I'd whir to sleepy life
Facing each morning with no purpose
Wasting ink and paper
In a wasted calibration dance

Then one day someone took me home
Giving me a place upon a wooden shelf
With a little plaque declaring what I used to be
Now just an outdated heirloom curiosity