On school days, it's smooth as silk, a clean start with no guilt. From chalk dust, tales do sprout and grow, where minds wander to and fro.

Grooms' cars drag me down streets 'though I cry You kick me or shoot me, no one bats an eye One day I'll take vengeance for living this hell I'll blow up, brew botox, I poison you well Learn from this tale, don't leave me a dent for handled with care I am a godsend If apocalypse strikes and mankind is done I feed you for years and decades to come

The king lives in a palace, The poor man lives in me, I'm small but I have a roof. What can I be?

I grow in silence, sharp and bright, Catching rainbows in the light. Born from earth, yet clear as air, With hidden patterns sleeping there. I may be quartz, or ice, or gem, A tiny kingdom at my stem.

My first two are a father and my next two are a six My last four, beast that sounds a bit like those deceitful tricks Pouring rain, or blazing sun? My shelter is a fix.