Answer:
I come in different colors and shapes. Some parts of me are curvy, some are straight. I look like I can belong anywhere but there is only one right place for me. What am I?
The last man on Earth received a phone call, who was the caller?
What can be drawn but never taken?
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.
I can be cracked made told and played.
In your fire you hear me scream! Creaking and whining yet I am dead before you lay me in your hearth.