A rolling stone doesn’t gather this because stones don’t have freaking hands

I am small yet mighty, Though one might call me be bitey. Very Often mistaken for a rat but I'm still afraid of cats.

I hate this as it gets everywhere in your shoes Though with a towel above this in the sun you can snooze You can use this substance to make glass Just don’t let it get stuck all over your ass

I hold a bright rainbow right in your hand. I am not a crystal, I am soft and I glow, I catch every color the sunlight can throw.

I am born in the spring, grow tall in the sun, But my life comes to an end when the summer is done. They cut me and gather me, heavy and gold, To feast on my riches before it gets cold.