Answer:
You use a knife to slice my head. And weep beside me when I am dead.
You throw me out when you want to use me and you take me in when you don't want to use me. Who am I?
If a man carried my burden, he would break his back. I am not rich, but leave silver in my track.
I scribble forms of the finest letter, And repel elements of the harshest weather. I am an arrow-aimer and a dust-breaker.
I cannot be other than what I am, until the man who made me dies. Power and glory will fall to me finally. Only when he last closes his eyes.
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.