I have a back, but no head. I have stripes, but I am not a zebra. I live on the road, but I never drive. I help you walk, but I never move. What am I?

What comes once in a year, twice in a week but never in a day?

I visit at night, when lights go low, I steal your sleep but help thoughts grow. Eyes shut tight, yet wide awake. Count all the sheep I never take.

I have two legs but cannot run. I’m thrown on quick when mornings come. Forget me once? No leaving home.

Like rubbing wine stains into rugs, it’s my curse To try and make it right, but by trying make it worse All efforts for naught, and as your fire cools I’m what pervades, an errand of fools