Answer:
Poor people have it. Rich people need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?
I have memories, but none of my own. Whatever's on my inside is what is shown. If I'm ever different, it's because you changed me. I feel like a decoration, here for you to arrange me. What am I?
Born of sorrow, grow with age, you need a lot of me to be a sage. What am I?
I rise and fall no matter what, only at finals rest do I not budge. What am I?
I am merry creature in pleasant time of year as in but certain seasons I sing that you can hear; And yet I'm made a by-word A very perfect mock; Compared to foolish persons And silliest of all folk.
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.