I start when you close, to track that which you hold. A stores system is not complete without me, as you don't know how many you hold. So go and count, each item must match, that from the corporate overlords.

I'm soft and wet, yet can harden like stone; I'm shaped by your hands, but have a mind of my own. From mud I'm born, in fire I'm reborn, A vessel for water, or a form to adorn.

I sometimes clink, I hold with care, and carry your food unless you share. I’m happy to serve, but don’t you drop me, or I might just shatter with a sad little sound!

Food made of cow, to raise me carries risk. Stab me through a vampires heart to end that monster brisk.

I am the music made by axe and saw which pulled you in and left you hollow.