Today's poem-a-day riddle. (Remember, folks, that I mostly write for children, so the tone and the answers are supposed to be at least a little easier than for the adult set who do the Times crossword puzzle in ink).
RIDDLE
I used to be quite useful,
until your birth, that is.
But now, to be quite truthful,
I have no purposes.
I peek above your beltline,
an eye that cannot see,
a sketch, the merest outline
of the thing I used to be.
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