Answer:
I am the black child of a white father a wingless bird flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me even though there is no cause for grief and at once on my birth I am dissolved into air.
Better touch me before you proceed to second. What am I?
I donβt forget!
You use me from your head to your toes. The more I work, the thinner I grow. What am I?
I can sizzle like bacon. I am made from an egg. I have plenty of backbone but lack a good leg. I peel layers like onions but still remain whole. I can be long like a flagpole yet fit in a hole.
I am always hungry, I must always be fed. The finger I lick will soon turn red. What am I?