Pair me with a dragon, though stranger things still play, Filled with beasts and lurking dread along a shadowed way. Prisoner or adventurer, to me you’re drawn by fate, Survive my trials in the game, and treasure crowns your plate.

Jacks and Lizzie have both made my name, I’m from olden times, up to modern day flames. Iron, wedge, no putter. Would spread like butter. Mini me. Look down to hatch it. Ask dyslexic. Cutter.

I guard the gateway to your soul when beads flow and dust blows. I am not alive yet still I grow.

The first five are something you get right away; if you drop the last two, I become the only adjective and noun of this word. The last four are a noun of metric fame, a logical unit with a Greek base for mass. I am a place to post your photos, where likes and loves rule the land.

I’m sometimes used as a derogatory term For someone who’s on the small side But I’m not the smallest thing out there And I also remind you, with pride, That I’m the Fruit of the Sea according to some. My heart can be found in my head. I may be small, but I can pack a big punch And to grow I have to shed.