Answer:
I am a beverage named after a stick.
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.
My days are numbered.
I am a million peopleβs wakeup call
I go up when the rain comes down
All about, but cannot be seen, Can be captured, cannot be held, No throat, but can be heard. Who am I?