I'm not a fancy noble, nor can I bite and roar; Some people find me pretty, but by others, I'm abhorred. You may see me in your neighbor's yard, but hopefully not in yours.

My little boy went first, but alas did not survive. I followed three days later, but there I also died. And scores of thousands cried. Who am I?

One hand's worth comes first, And then again plus two more, One hand's worth is last.

Hidden in fruit, pod, and tree The weary find strength when they ingest me Black, Brown, Green or via flying Red longhorn I shall give you all the fire that you so mourn

I appear in a greeting, but I am not a sound. You might see me in a stadium, crowd, or while walking around.