Answer:
Some try to hide, some try to cheat, but time will show we always will meet.
I am a pretty one, fluttering in the pale blue sky. Delicate, fragile on the wing, indeed I am a pretty thing. What am I?
Whoever made me don't want me. Whoever bought me don't need me. Whoever use me don't know me.
Born in the ocean and white as snow. When I fall back to water, I disappear without a trace. What am I?
I am an instrument you can hear but cannot touch or see. What am I?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?