Answer:
I have a name written on me, but it isnβt my name. Men plant me, but I never grow. They look at me and see their future, rotting in my bloom.
With a halo of water and a tongue of wood, stone as skin long I stood. What am I?
I jump when I walk and sit when I stand.
Many people own a copy of me. Without me the world would fall.
Men seize me from my home tear apart my flesh drink the sweet blood then cast my skin aside.
Lynn likes grapes but not potatoes. She likes squash but not lettuce, and she likes peas but not onions. Following the same rule, will she like pumpkins or apples?