Answer:
A tiny bead, like fragile glass, strung along a cord of grass.
A seed am I, three letters make my name. Take away two and I still sound the same.
At the sound of me, one may dream or stamp their feet, At the sound of me, one may laugh or sometimes weep.
I have it, I donβt share it. If I share it, I donβt have it. What is it?
What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.