Answer:
I am the black cloak of the road
Some women don't like to be called that, yet every woman wants one. It cries and makes a lot of noise, but smiles and gurgles when you give it toys.
I saw a strange creature. Long, hard, and straight, thrusting into a round, dark opening. Preparing to discharge its load of lives. Puffing and squealing noises accompanied it, then a final screech as it slowed and stopped.
What must take a bow before it can speak?
Men cut this by attaching a razor to a broom handle or just have their wives do it.
Within, I clean all that is bad and is old. I make juice thatβs the color of gold. Should I die, a filter machine would you need assembled to replace me and beans I resemble.