Answer:
Whoever made me doesn't want me. Whoever bought me doesn't need me. Whoever uses me doesn't know me. What am I?
The eight of us go forth not back to protect our king from a foe's attack. What are we?
I can be cracked, made, told, and played. What am I?
When you are inside me you will be encouraged to slam other cars.
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.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?