I'm a seed that's underground.
Many like to spread me around.
But my family it's said is quite insane.
And if you've a low I.Q. you've this kind of brain.
Eat me raw and I'll make you sick.
Eat too much and your tongue will stick.
What am I?
My author's uncertain yet my title's the same,
I contain random text yet order's my aim.
Read me one day and see my pages are totally bare.
Try again another day and the words will be there.
I'm not a book of magic although it may sound,
I can predict the future, and inside, your life can be found.
Move my eye, I become involved in lactic extraction.
But that's just a clue , a minor distraction.
What am I?
As I went over London Bridge
I met my sister Jenny.
I broke her neck and drank her blood
And left her standing empty.
What am I?
What sneaks through doors and windows without knocking?
What heats an unlit stove?
What gives the cat a snug place to rest?
Though liquid in nature, don't push me too far; for then I will break, and the damage may scar.
What am I?
