I hold life but am easy to throw Without mothers warmth I may never grow

A pocket to pop Or a bubble to leave One gives medical help While the other may require it.

I have no mouth, so I cannot chew. I have no nose, so I cannot smell. Yet teeth I bear through tangled hair; I part and smooth it well.

Ichabod’s horseman, This wouldn’t appease. A hard-headed helper, Shell of shell, to your seed. It’s made to absorb, Cracks it tries to impede. You’ll be this at the end, If you keep up bad deeds.

I'm portable and powerful, a tool in your hand, A screen that's alive, with a world to expand, Keys that click and whir, a brain that's fast, Where work meets play, and ideas blast.