I visit your wallet when luck has run dry, I split sturdy friendships and promises awry. I shout from old radios when headlines erupt, I hide in the silence when patterns disrupt. You fear me in rules, crave me in news, Repairing or sharing, it’s me that you use.

I fly away when you throw me, Then I turn around and come back to you. I’m not a bird, but I always return. What am I?

We’re not related. You can get that in writing.

A thing you cut at a new business opening. Tied around a gift to add flair and fanciness. Add blue to the beginning, and you have a winner.

How does a doughnut make a wish? They ... a star!