I am used to measure and conquer, but I am not used to cut bread or make butter. You can find me in in a castle, a pencil case and a parliament .

I make things pretty, for birthday gifts and pigtails, but I am not made of sugar and spice. You might see me in first, second, or third winner.

When you go shopping in my name, You buy nothing, it’s just a game. I’m framed but never hang on a wall, What am I, after all?

In a tiny queen’s castle, I hold a sweet prize. In a museum, I take a man’s guise. If I grow in your head, I block out sound. If I melt in your hand, I cast light around. I’m what the moon does after it’s new. If you’re a poet, I’m what you do, too.

I stand without moving, yet I dance in place. I eat till I’m gone, leaving only my face. I live for a moment, then melt apart. What am I?