Answer:
Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls.
He stands beside the road. In a purple cap at tattered green cloak. Those who touch him, curse him.
What begins and has no end? What is the ending of all that begins?
When liquid splashes me, none seeps through. When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew. When I am hit, color I change. And color, I come in quite a range. What I cover is very complex, and I am very easy to flex.
It's a game played by serious people that takes place on a global scale.
What gets broken if itβs not kept?