I die to give you light and cry as I fade away.

I spring from a box with a laugh or a crack, I lift up your car when the road fights back. I deal out the cards and I plug in the sound, Guess who I am, in all forms I’m found?

My first half is something you write with on a blackboard. my second half is when you are not early and not on time. Altogether, im something you eat or you drink, and children loves me a lot.

In spring I start as petals light, by fall I'm blushing and crisp with each bite.

I’m a small jaw at rest on a desk, fed slender rations of silver. Press my back and I forge a bridge, two loose wanderers now bound together. Starve me, and I only bite the air.