Answer:
You throw away the outside, eat the inside, then throw away the inside. What is it?
My coat keeps me safe From damage thatβs near. I cause you happiness, sadness, Anticipation and fear. On the outside, I am put under judgment of price. But my insides have far more value That not even MONEY can suffice.
I can run but not walk. Wherever I go, thought follows close behind.
My prefix is food. My suffix is rude. My infix comes in rounds. I keep you off the ground. What Am I?
What can be forever wound up but never annoyed?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.