Mystery Poem by Sarah

I am as useful as a cell phone
I am practically everywhere

I hear scribbling, squeaking, whirring, talking
I see almost everything

I can be as precious as flowers
I can be as rejected as moldy bread

I can help you, I can make you cry
I can make you groan, I can make you laugh

I can be passed around
I can be waiting to be used

I once had breath, but now I'm dead
What am I?