Answer:
small land in water.
I am enjoyed with a pot and some pointy sticks.
My voice is tender my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
I must be broken before you can use me.
I am a room that has a roof but no walls. What am I?
Walk on the living, they don't even mumble. Walk on the dead, they mutter and grumble.