I stand so still, yet work all day, Giving little gifts away. Push me once or wave hello, Watch my tiny treasure flow. I never eat, I never drink, Yet I help more than you think. Some say I'm kind, some call me neat, I make small jobs feel quite complete. Sometimes I'm found beside a sink, Sometimes where the people drink. Sometimes I live upon a wall, Waiting proudly, straight and tall. I never ask for gold or pay, But serve a hundred times a day. A gentle press, a careful squeeze, I do my work with perfect ease. I have a mouth but cannot chew, I open wide because of you. I have a belly full inside, Holding all I safely hide. Sometimes bubbles, sometimes cream, Sometimes sugar for your dream. Maybe soap to clean your hands.

I grow heavier with every drink. Yet lighter with one squeeze.

A small, young, or lesser version of a tab?

I beg you to solve my riddle, though I have little else that is my own. I could be a Catholic friar, a Buddhist monk, a Muslim student, or simply homeless in search of food. Or one who says they are unable to repair clothing

Beneath ten patient fingertips, my silent voice takes flight.