I come to hospitals and bad bridges,
The vanguard and crumbling ridges,
When I come, I come alone,
Touch a shoulder, then we're gone
Nothing on the outside,
Nothing on the inside,
Light as a feather,
Yet ten men cannot lift it.
I am a journey that all must take,
A path that none can avoid or fake.
My embrace is cold and final,
And yet, some find my arrival vital.
What am I?
My joints you'll never see, on my own I do not breathe, on my back I carry death, and I never am what you want.
What is that which, while it lives, constantly changes its habit,
That is buried before it is dead, and whose tomb is valued wherever it is found?
Taken from a mine and then locked up in a wooden case. Never released but used by students everyday
Word of print and word of mouth
hails from north east west and south
What has a radius longer than its diameter?
I am long, you move me around with your lips and tongue,
I get wet with saliva and I get sucked
A time when they are green, a time when they're brown, but both of these times, cause me to frown. But just in between, for a very short while, They're perfect and yellow and cause me to smile!
Glittering points that downward thrust,
Sparkling spears that never rust.
What is it that races your mind?
Sets your heart on fire,
And blows off time?
Used to be a drink,
But isn't anymore.
And can be bought down the street;
In the five and ten cent store?