A flavor, some think as plain But brings taste to cookies and cake Imagine the taste, it shouldn't be a strain It's in so many things you want to bake.

You spin and twist, I stay true to my aim. Some built into wrist, a cardinal fame. I point to the tip, on your planet’s plane. Magnetic in fields, showing due, is my game.

In science I measure, in earth I reside, on skin I appear, though small I may hide. From numbers to tunnels to marks you can see, one word defines all versions of me.

A place of rest As well as a place of work I am an object, yes But what I am most is something to rely on

Black tears of the void, Words bloom on pale paper fields, Stories stain the page.