Answer:
What has 88 keys, but canβt open a single door?
Some will use me, others not. Some have remembered, others forgot. For profit or gain, I'm used expertly. I can't be picked off the ground or tossed into the sea. What am I?
I can be cracked made told and played.
Squeeze me and I cry tears as red as my flesh but my heart is made of stone.
In my yard there's a bed with no pillows a trunk with no clothes a branch with no leaves. What am I looking at?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?