Answer:
I have a name written on me, but it isnβt my name. Men plant me, but I never grow. They look at me and see their future, rotting in my bloom.
My snake-like body cracks and burns. I cause pain but pleasure too. What am I?
My first two letters say my name. My last letter asks a question. What I embrace I destroy.
I have a few points but we're not competing. I'll help you win when you're eating. What am I?
My first is high my second damp my whole a tie a writer's cramp.
A little house full of meat, no door to go in and eat.