I’m a giant shady mushroom cap, Where people gather, chat, and clap. I’m not a tree, but block the sun, A roof for music, games, and fun.

I may be mistaken for a tree, some childrens hated enemy. But healthy is my humble green, so on the plate I should be seen.

A vessel of secrets, it holds warmth or chill, often seen in the lab, ready to fulfill. With a narrow neck and a belly wide, it’s a chemist’s trusted guide.

I can be part of your foot, yet I never wear a shoe. I stand above a grand doorway, yet I cannot see the view. I am the chief of villains, but I do no crime myself. I am a sneaky prefix sitting on a grammar shelf. What am I?

It remains under the skin forever It disappears in water On paper it can change the world