He took away six of my name I am left with one, what a shame But my old pals, they still call me the same Chirp chirp, it’s lively here, twenty-four seven I am a place for your short opinions

A candle does it, and so do overworked people-though only one involves a literal flame being extinguished. The first four say what a fire does, the last three are what you do to leave.

On the skin of a peach, the bum of a bee, the static on screens of old CRTs. Add Y to the end, and what name would grace ya? The first of an ursine with full alopecia.

Pallid face, Collared cape, Evening stroll, Nubile nape...

I’m round and small yet worth much more. I travel through hands and rest in stores. I have no voice, yet tales I tell, Of wishes made in wells I dwell.