Answer:
If a man would carry my burden he would break his back I am not rich But leave silver in my track
Black and scary, small and hairy. In the night you hear it preach, Through its noisy high pitched screech.
It's black and every time it speaks it says its name.
I have a very long neck and eat leaves from tall trees. What am I?
What screams when put in a pot of boiling water?
What is it that makes tears without sorrow. And takes its journey to heaven?