Most hate me, but never stop me I change what you write It's never aloud only in words And never through lead only through LED What am I?

There once was a sunbeam who was really naughty, He was sent to prism for a dozen days and nights, He came out from his time looking rather haughty, Because his sentence was rather...

A sharp whisper on your skin, it dances with a gleaming grin. Silent sculptor of the legs and face, leaving a delicate smooth, clean trace. If you can't guess what I am my dear, think about Occam and all shall be clear.

I'm called a vegetable by chefs, but a fruit by science. I come in many colors, and I make pasta sauce. What am I?

I fit within your palm, yet stain whatever I touch. Sweet when you eat me, but messy when crushed.