Made in times long past, my creators I outlast. Stories I may tell, of cultures that fell.

I come in many colors but the most common is pink. I sit on the top of a pencil waiting to take care of your mistakes.

An onomatopoeic sound tied to basketball, shoes in particular, after all. A flourished squiggle that carries weight, representing speed and sounding oh so sweet.

Corners four and sides the same, a resting spot in life's busy game. With secrets stored or gifts adorned, a simple shape, yet much adored.

I can be clean. I can be dirty. You may want to use me at your own risk. However, if you brave the nasty, you will be relieved at the end. What am I?