I start with words, but end with cries, I take the living, and leave the whys. When I am gone, I linger still, In empty chairs and quiet hills.

I used to be solely black and white, but now I have color. I can be found in your grandparents house sometimes. If I'm old you may find history within.

Long but little, stubby pegs. Used in WWII for sniffing out bad eggs. Bad with hamsters, kids, and stairs. Sharp teef, German, little care.

I am a reminder of the past, forcibly given. Some can be seen, others only felt. I may be attractive to some and repulsive to others. I can be lessened, but never completely erased.

I am one of seven. We all are separate but connected, except for two. A very long time ago only one of us were around.