I am known for blades, but I do not cut. You might water me.

I exist in space, in the atmosphere, and even in houses. While people work hard to remove me, I am quite beneficial to some ecosystems.

I wake the world with colors bright, Yet I can leap with sudden might. I store my energy in coils tight, And from the earth, I bubble with delight.

I may remind you of feathers, or sadness, though others may call me willing. What am I?

Some white men in green suits, a bunch breaking bread As time goes by, a yellow dye pervades their garments threads Then longer still, their coffee spills and stains them all with brown Before too long those friends have gone, I ran them out of town