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It's shorter than the rest, but when you're happy, you raise it up like it's the best. What is it?
In graveyards we gather. In the living we exist, in your closet we persist. What are we?
I have a name that's not mine and no one cares about me in their prime. People cry at my sight and lie by me all day and night. What am I?
What belongs to you, but other people use it more that you do?
It's shorter than the rest, but when you're happy, you raise it up like it's the best. What is it?