Born from a star so far, so bright. A traveler made of light, I die on your skin so warm, Soft, yet in a storm. What am I?

You’ll build on me, lie on me, and run on me too, then spend the whole ride home brushing me off of you.

I am perfectly tasty, except for the suspicious brown dent.

As I was walking along the beach, she approached me. 'Hey kid,' the girl hissed, 'want some of the good stuff?' 'Get away from me you freak!' I screamed. 'I don't do that sort of thing!'

I scream above the waves, And steal more than I save. I wear a coat of white and gray, And chase your snacks along the bay. I soar with hardly any sound, Then dive when tasty food is found. By shore and harbor, I’m the boss What am I?