When you have me, you don’t use me, when you use me, you don’t know that you use me and if you buy me, it’s probably for someone else

Four divisions in a casket, There's a loaf in every basket.

I can be used in a fight, but I cannot do real damage in it. People use me to enter the realm of dreams.

Round as the moon but fits on a finger, Golden and precious, in pockets I linger. What's in my pocket, the hobbits trick What circles and binds with power so thick?

I have a magic box, inside it you can see: the past, the present, the truth and the imaginary. It sits upon a wooden throne so everyone can share, but don’t stare at it too much, or else your eyes just might turn square.