Answer:
While I did live, I food did give, which many one did daily eat. Now being dead, you see they tread me under feet about the street.
From that which comes within itself, It builds its table on my shelf.
What bird is always unhappy?
Tiny creatures that have a special relationship with flowers.
A warrior amongs the flowers, He bears a thrusting sword. Able and ready to use, To guard his golden hoard.
The sun bakes them, The hand breaks them, The foot treads on them, And the mouth tastes them. What are they?