I hang from the ceiling People often forget which one goes on the ground I'm often formed in caves What am I?

Joints and bearings, Crystal and how it’s viewed. In the fields it is hit, kicked, thrown and abused. A hitch to extend. Rolls on what’s askew. No hogs are admired. The red rubber’s the true.

What the grown up acorn said when it looked in a mirror

I have a hook, but catch no fish. I have a loop, but tie no knot. We stick together, though we are not kin.

The scarecrow was the best there was. You could say he was this in his field.