I speak without a voice and draw without hands. I get shorter every time I say something. Sharpen me and I am reborn. Ignore me and I collect dust. What am I?

Floating high like a whisper in the breeze, a burst of color sways with ease. Its fragile skin holds dreams aloft, yet with a pin, its hopes are lost.

Drop in a coin and make a request, I’m a bubbly spot for a peaceful rest. I send water upward without any hands, The splashiest center in all of the lands.

You can find me in a box Or hanging from a ceiling You'll find tons of me at sporting events And the greatest musicians performances Sometimes my belt goes bad in your automobile But without me... no one is cool

Tiny mountains on the floor, never make it to the drawer. Once a week, hopefully, Mom puts me back where I'm supposed to be.