In a shop, once busy, now quiet and gray, An old hydraulic press sat forgotten each day. Heavy and strong, yet left all alone, Waiting and hoping, its fate was unknown. Along came John from the woods, with a plan, "I'll keep it," he said, "and I'll do what I can! I'll store it forever or use it with care, In my own forest shop—just tell me what's fair." But Jeffrey paused, "Wait! This isn't quite clear. We must have agreements before it leaves here. What's this 'X years'? And changes you'd make? These points are uncertain; we've got things at stake!" "The press isn't blocking or causing me fuss, But Jim might decide he doesn't want it with us. Then OFAD could claim it; a resource to share, For learning and working, with teamwork and flair." "Imagine the students, professors, and more, Creating together as never before. Or profits to help us stay clear of the red, Selling or renting it, moving ahead!" So let's clearly decide—no ifs, buts, or guess, The future that's best for our sturdy old press. To keep it alive, to give it new worth, A purpose again, a renewed kind of birth!