I hold up your stories, your treasures, your past, Though I never take steps, I support to the last. I stand in the silence, flat against the wall, If you pile on too much, I might take a fall.

I sketch on the sidewalk, I write on the board, but press me too hard and I’ll screech in discord.

On school days, it's smooth as silk, a clean start with no guilt. From chalk dust, tales do sprout and grow, where minds wander to and fro.

Grooms' cars drag me down streets 'though I cry You kick me or shoot me, no one bats an eye One day I'll take vengeance for living this hell I'll blow up, brew botox, I poison you well Learn from this tale, don't leave me a dent for handled with care I am a godsend If apocalypse strikes and mankind is done I feed you for years and decades to come

The king lives in a palace, The poor man lives in me, I'm small but I have a roof. What can I be?