Dust-born words upon the wall, gone again at cleaning’s call.

Cut it, it’s time to let loose on the floor. A throw on the ground, near your bed or front door. Swap the end for a ‘B’, it’s what’s needed when sore. Add a ‘D’ at the start, pharmaceutical store.

Toss me and aim for the target, unlike archery, no bow and arrow required, the entertainment factor increases when I miss amongst drunken bar patrons

I follow effort but I’m not a reward. Athletes seek me, yet I do no sport. Too little of me breaks the strong, Too much of me weakens the long. Doctors prescribe me without a pill, And when I arrive, the world grows still. What am I?

If there’s a haystack, I’m in it. If you like idioms, I will tease or provoke you.