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I'm a tool for writing, with pages to spare, A place for your thoughts, a canvas for care You'll find me in pockets or on a desk, Wherever you go, I...
I hide your clothes, I keep them neat, In a small space, I am discreet In me, you'll find your favorite attire, Guess my name, I'm your storage empire
I'm where cars gather, lined up neat, A place where parking is complete Find me here, in a crowded spot, Before your journey, I'm the first slot What ...
I carry your belongings, always by your side, With compartments and pockets, I'm your faithful guide From lipstick to keys, I hold it all in place, ...
I deceive you with a false face, Hiding truth in a cunning embrace What am I?
My hands are just as important as my face, and I'm not one to sit still: what am I?
If you look at the numbers on my face, you won't find thirteen anywhere.
A smooth dance, a ball sport, a place to stay, an Asian country, and a girl's name. What is her name?
Do you see me where I cannot go nor be? Within that very place, my face you often see. What am I?
Trust in me to bring you solace, up and down and through it all, but do I exist at all?
I am a mountain, unmoving. I am a pleasant blue sky. You may be the one who birthed me, with your eye of eyes. Though my memory may still linger. I ma...
I exist, but not in this place; the deeper I proceed, the more I embrace. Where am I?
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